


Electric Storms

by andromedablacc (TheLittleGreenTypewriter)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, James and Sirius save the world, M/M, Minor Character Death, No Harry AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleGreenTypewriter/pseuds/andromedablacc
Summary: Of all the things that could happen after being kid-napped by his brother, Sirius didn't think he'd ever be standing with a locket in his hand that supposedly contained a piece of Voldemort's soul and James telling him he was in love with him, but apparently, that's how life was going to go.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked me on tumblr to write a fic months and months ago about James and Sirius finding the horcruxes, and eventually it turned into this.

Sirius sat at what was supposed to be his dining table that had long since become overrun with paper work from the Order, clothes, both fresh and otherwise, and empty beer bottles, and peered at the map Dumbledore had given him several days previously. It was impressive in its size and detail, even noting the thickness of the walls, but was completely muggle. That, Dumbledore had said, was Sirius’s task to fix. He hadn’t mentioned his previous experience of making magical maps, yet Sirius was certain he knew of it from the sparkle in his piercing blue eyes. Sirius’s hadn’t done it alone then though, and he wasn’t so sure he could do it alone now. He knew the charms to track the Death Eaters of course, and more to boot now he was several years older but gathering that many magical signatures across so many miles would be near impossible for one man.

Lightning flashed, miles away, and lit up the otherwise dull room in white-purple light that made Sirius’s blood freeze in his veins. Several seconds later, thunder rumbled and Sirius found himself hugging his arms in close to his chest, his concentration shot and he knew he wouldn’t return to the map that night. Astraphobia, the muggles called it, his bone chilling fear of thunder storms. Normally he could deal with it, a few beers settled in his stomach and his best friend beside him, a constant distraction from everything out with his four walls. James wasn’t here now, and Sirius was feeling it.

The living-kitchen-diner lit up again with the electrical light, the thunder almost immediately after, drowning out the sound of a voice yelling and banging on the front door. Sirius stood, guessing that without James his best bet of getting through the storm would be to curl up in bed and try to ignore it, and just as he was about to enter his bedroom, he heard the voice cry out again.

“Come on Pads, open the door!” James’s voice flooded him with such relief that he didn’t even notice how wet it sounded, as if the other man had been crying and was trying to stave off more tears even then. Sirius rushed to the door, and threw it open as James began to knock again. His dark brown skin was soaked, his hair so wet even the bit that perpetually stood up at the back of his head was flattened against his skull. For a second James looked at Sirius with the most broken expression he’d ever seen on his face, worse than when his parents had died and Sirius felt anger surge white-hot within him at whoever had made look like that. He watched as his face shifted suddenly as the other man looked at him and his hazel eyes filled with guilt.

“Oh shit Si, I’m sorry.”

Déjà vu swept over Sirius as James dropped the case and wrapped Sirius in his arms, like he had on the night Sirius had shown up at the Potters, scarred and scared, a terrified grin twisting his face and his own case in hand. He breathed in the scent of his best friend, flying leathers and that crackling smell of frequent magic use, like a match being lit or the calm after a storm, and he felt his heart slow a little, a little less like a hummingbird. He would have stood there for hours, days, safe in James’s arms, if it weren’t for the silent sobs that began to shake James’s shoulders, and suddenly Sirius remembered the case.

“What happened, Prongs?” he asked gently into James’s hair, shifting from taking his strength from James to giving it as much as he could. James’s arms drew him closer still and he buried his face into the space where Sirius’s neck met his shoulder.

“ _Lily_.”

Fear, ten times greater than his terror of lightning, gripped Sirius, and he put his shaking hand to James’s cheek, pushing him back and tipping it slightly so he could look at his best friend’s face. His eyes were red rimmed and raw, he’d clearly been crying for some time.

“What’s happened to Lily?” He tried to keep his voice smooth and calm even as he felt his dread rise again as James shook his head and pushed back to be close to him.

“She _left_ me.”

Sirius didn’t think he would ever be relieved to find James heartbroken, yet here he was, his rapid breathing slowly to something close to normal knowing Lily was safe. He wrapped his arms closer around James and kicked the door shut, whispering soothing words into James’s hair until he calmed his crying and simply breathed him in.

* * *

 Living with James was as easy as it ever was, and within days it was like he’d never left, the year he’d spent with Lily in their little house in the countryside no more than a bad dream lingering in the back of Sirius’s mind. Sirius didn’t hear from Lily or Remus, or anyone he cared about, and in the current climate, no news was always good news, and so Sirius basked in having his best friend with him again until the second Monday of October rolled around, and it was time for the monthly Order meeting.

James flicked his wand lazily and their dinner dishes floated over to the tiny sink, beginning to wash themselves. Sirius had expected him to have tried to run to Lily at least five times by now, begging her to take him back, but after the first day of grieving he seemed to settle into a sort of contentedness. Sirius suspected he was in denial, but every time he tried to bring up the subject James changed the conversation to something else entirely and eventually he gave up trying. James would tell him when he was ready, and no sooner.

Sirius stood and Summoned his favourite leather jacket along with James’s woollen winter cloak and slipped his on, handing James’s to him. His best friend stayed sitting and winced.

“I’m, eh, not coming tonight,” he said, sounding apologetic. He took the cloak all the same and played with the beginnings of a fray at one sleeve. Sirius got the feeling he was just avoiding looking at him. “Just can’t face her yet, y’know? I haven’t spoken to her since she… Since I left.”

Sirius knew that, of course he did, he just hadn’t expected it to stop James.

“Dumbledore wants me to just continue with what I’m doing, and I’ve been helping you with the map, and there’s nothing new going on so.” Sirius waited to see if James would continue, but he seemed to be finished.

“Alright,” he said and pulled on his boots. “I’ll see you after anyway.”

James smiled at him, finally looking in his eyes, and Sirius could see the relief there plain as day. He suspected James wasn’t so easy to read to everybody, but Sirius never had an issue with it and he knew whatever had happened with him and Lily, James hadn’t really accepted it yet.

He apparated straight out of the flat and into the house the Prewett twins owned between them. It was small but cosy, and every time they had an order meeting there, completely packed with wizards and witches of all backgrounds, many in robes, but some in muggle clothes, both in and out of style. One of the few in muggle clothes was Remus, sitting alone across the room in an overlarge armchair Sirius knew he could force himself into alongside him.

Remus did not look impressed as he did just that, huffing as Sirius squashed him. Sirius loved Remus, he did, but since the war had taken over their lives, they’d grown further and further apart, he didn’t think they’d been this close in years. Sirius couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent time together outside of Order meetings or James and Lily’s occasional parties to desperately try and keep the group together, it’d been months since any of them had seen Peter at all. They still spent every full moon together, but barely spent minutes together without being in their beastly forms. Even now, Remus looked uncomfortable being so close to him and it wasn’t just that they were squashed together.

For a moment, there was silent between them, more awkward than even after the Incident in their fifth year.

“How’s James doing?”

Sirius hadn’t expected Remus to know about James and Lily breaking up, though really he should have. Remus and Sirius didn’t talk much anymore, but it wasn’t surprising that James was still in frequent contact with him, he’d always been the glue that kept their group together, had been less guarded with his affections. It’d made Sirius infinitely jealous as a teenager, and though he could look back at his possessiveness of James now and laugh, there was a small part of him that still coveted the entirety of James’s love.

“He’s doing okay. In denial, I guess, he won’t tell me what went wrong.”

Remus looked at him pointedly for a moment, like he though Sirius was lying, before he shrugged his shoulder that wasn’t crushed against Sirius’s.

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready. Or you’ll figure it out before then.”

“What was it then? Since apparently you already know,” Sirius said, sharper than he’d expected. It hurt him that James would tell Remus what was going on with him but not Sirius, who he spent all his time with, who was his _best friend_ , a tiny betrayal.

“He didn’t tell me, you know, I worked it out. No need to get that look on your face.” Sirius tried to relax his face into something softer, more neutral. He’d forgotten that Remus could read him almost as easily as James could. “And I won’t tell you what it was, before you ask. It’s James’s business to tell, not mine.”

There was no point in arguing with Remus once he’d made up his mind, so Sirius stayed silent and watched as more people filed into the room. Everyone looked tired, exhausted in fact, like they hadn’t gotten enough sleep in days, months maybe. Fabian himself was half asleep on one of the couches nearest the fire, the orange and red light flickering across his face and making the dark circles under his eyes even more pronounced.

He might have gone over to speak to him if Lily hadn’t walked into the room that very second, her auburn hair up in a high pony tail that he could see pulled too tightly at her temples, and Sirius felt a familiar guilt settle in him that he hadn’t even written to her since James moved back home, she looked worse even than everyone else, heartbreak plain still in the edges of her mouth. He didn’t bother telling Remus where he was going as he stood, pushing free of the confines of the armchair and making his way across the room.

“Lily, I’m sorry.”

She held a hand up to stop him before he continued, a small, sad smile pulling at her lips.

“It’s fine Sirius, I get it,” she said, and moved to wrap her arms around his waist when he hugged her. “You and James have to look after each other first.”

She probably meant it to comfort him, instead the guilt grew. He and James had promised tucked up in bed together when they were sixteen and Sirius had left his family that they would always look after each other, but that didn’t mean it was okay for him to ignore his other friends who were hurting too.

“I should have at least written to you,” he admitted, and she didn’t correct him on that one.

“Has he told you why, yet?”

Before Sirius could answer, Dumbledore stepped into the room, all attention immediately on him. Lily and Sirius drew away from each other as the old wizard looked around the room, meeting each Order member in the eye.

“Thank you, each and every one of you, for risking your lives coming here tonight. I wish I didn’t need to ask it of you. However, as I’m sure you’re all eager to get home again, to be back with your loved ones, I will keep things brief.

“Voldemort is relentless in his pursuit of extra warriors. He is noted to have been trying to sway the giants to his side recently and is known to have swathes of warewolves already joining him, including the notorious Fenrir Greyback, of whom I’m sure many of you will have already heard.”

Sirius shoved his hands into his jeans pockets so no one would see them shake with rage at the very mention of Greyback’s name. He glanced over at Remus, he looked the picture of righteousness, how he managed to keep so calm at the knowledge that the monster who’d ruined his whole life was now with Voldemort, he had no idea, but he admired him for it. If it had been Sirius or James, both of them would have been ready to kill him there and then.

“Therefore, I request that everyone be extra vigilant, both in their missions and their everyday lives. We cannot let Voldemort and his Death Eaters gain more ground in this war.”

With that final message, Dumbledore seemed to shrink back into the crowd of people, human instead of godly once again. Several more people spoke to the Order at large, Moody and Alice Longbottom both having information they thought important be shared. Full plans were never laid out to everybody at once so that no one knew absolutely everything, there were even things Sirius suspected Dumbledore himself didn’t know.

No one stayed long to chat, as was becoming more and more common as the severity as the situation grew more and more apparent. A myriad of people were dying, muggle borns were starting to be attacked in broad daylight, and as the Death Eaters grew more numerous, even half-bloods and so called blood traitors were starting to be targeted. Sirius hugged Lily tightly and made to go, wanting to speak to Remus quickly before he did, but he watched from afar as McGonagall touched his friends arm and drew him aside, speaking in hushed tones. Remus nodded to whatever she was saying, his brow furrowing, and apparated away before Sirius had so much as a chance to call his name.

It could wait, Sirius decided, and went back home to tell James the more important updates.

* * *

 Marlene McKinnon was funny and clever and pretty in a hard sort of way, all short blonde hair and strong jaw, and Sirius had liked her even before James had started seeing Lily, and so he didn’t complain to James too much when he received a coded message from Moody telling him to meet her at six o’clock sharp the following morning on a muggle street near to where he’d grown up. James had been sent on a mission of his own that night anyway and was safe and sound asleep in his bed when Sirius left the flat.

She sat on a bench overlooking the Thames, her black cloak wrapped around her and two cups in her hands, breathing onto one of them. Sirius sat by her side, taking the second cup and sipping at the tea inside it without saying a word to her, content to sit in companionably silence until she was ready to tell him what they were there for.

“Is it strange, being back?” she asked without looking at him. She sounded as exhausted as he felt, he could see the dark circles under her eyes when he turned to look at her that probably matched his own. In truth, being anywhere in muggle London never felt too close to home. His parents would never have set foot among the muggles, would certainly never have let Sirius speak to them and so he associated it mainly with his later teenhood, running amok with James and his motorbike. Instead of telling her all this, he asked a question of his own.

“How’s Dorcas?” At that, she turned to face him, a cheeky little smile pulling at her mouth. Sirius reckoned, if either had them had just been a little less gay, they might have worked together, but he was glad in too many ways to count that they were. Even in the height of this war, Dorcas made Marlene so happy.

“She’s great,” she replied brightly, and then seemed to think better of her enthusiasm. “Well, as well can be expected given the circumstances, anyway.”

Sirius had been about to reply that it was good that Dorcas was doing so well, when something dark moved across the white houses on the other side of the river, not quite human in shape, and he stood.

“Marlene, what are we actually here for?”

Marlene stood with him, her eyes catching onto the creature as Sirius stared at it. “There’s muggles in that house over there. Rich ones, with a witch daughter. She works at the Prophet, has been speaking out against You-Know-Who there. Dumbledore thought the Death Eaters might target them for it.”

It certainly looked like it. With a quick glance at each other, and then at the surrounding areas to check to muggles were looking at them, Sirius reached out and took Marlene’s hand. He apparated them to just behind the suspicious looking creature. This close, it was obvious it was a witch or wizard with some kind of illusion cloak on them to distort their figure, still stark black against the bright white buildings in the grey morning light. The person didn’t turn around, but they’d clearly noticed them and quickly shot a stunning spell over their shoulder towards Marlene. It occurred to Sirius immediately that it was an unusual spell to use in a real fight, but he didn’t have time to ruminate on it as the spell careened towards him. They both shielded quickly, and Sirius was blasting out a binding spell before the stunning spell had even dissipated fully against Marlene’s shield where it’d hit near her stomach. The person shifted just as Sirius’s retaliating spell hit, missing its mark and glancing off their shoulder.

Before they even had a chance to raise their wand, Sirius sent off another spell, this time meant to wound. He kept running, almost making pace with the spell before it rebounded against the person and came flying back towards him. He flung himself to the ground, motioning his hand for Marlene to do the same, and felt his chin hit the ground. Blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue, the metallic taste sharp against his tongue. Sirius _hated_ street fighting.

The fight had barely begun and already Sirius was panting hard, his breath coming out in sharp bursts. Beside him Marlene was in a similar state, both of them pushing up hard from the ground and scrabbling to get to their feet. The person was well ahead of them now, but Marlene had always been good at long distance spells, sending one their way. This time it hit fully and the person clattered to the ground. Sirius was beside them in an instant, turning them over to see an ornate Death Eater mask staring up him, but up close even with the mask and the illusion cloaking spell, he knew exactly who it was.

Regulus and Sirius were barely a year apart, born one after the other much to the rage of their Aunt Druella, who she had only been able to produce girls, and were almost identical, barring where Sirius’s eyes were grey and Regulus’s were blue. As they’d grown older, Sirius had grown taller, broader, elegantly slender as James always said, rather than Regulus’s undeniable scrawniness.

Sirius took one look at the tense, narrow set of the shoulders, the familiar blue eyes gazing triumphantly out of the mask and knew his brother had laid a trap for him. Regulus reached up and grabbed his leather jacket, and with a sickening tug below his naval, he was apparating them away.


	2. Chapter 2

The world span, a swirling mass of grey and black and clear, bright blue, and Sirius couldn’t breathe, the feeling of nausea washing over him again and again as his lungs constricted, desperate for oxygen.  Apparition had never been his favourite mode of transport, even as a child, and side-along, especially when he didn’t know where he was being taken, was so much worse.

Suddenly, it all stopped and he was thrown out into an unbearably familiar room. The feeling of nausea that had disappeared as air flooded his lungs returned tenfold, gasping desperately for breath, and it was all he could do not to vomit onto his dear mother’s drawing room carpet as soon as he recognised the ugly pattern. A flurry of doxies fluttered out of the matching curtains as Sirius fell back against them, forcing his swimming vision to focus past them onto Regulus, lying on his back on the floor. He was panting, in almost as bad a state as Sirius himself, but his eyes were steady on Sirius’s and they still held the same self-satisfied glint in them as when he’d grabbed him.

Sirius spat out a mouthful of blood from his bitten tongue into a nearby vase, filled with over-sweet roses, refusing to look at any of the Black family heirlooms filling the room. It was hard not to, ther were so many, filling every corner and surface, more, if it was possible.

“That’s disgusting,” Regulus sneered as he attempted to stand only to fall back against the hard grey sofa Walburga had kept in this room for as long as Sirius could remember. Memories of the last time he’d been in this room, screaming in pain and anger, filled his mind.

“Why?” he rasped out past his twisting stomach, threatening to spill out his pre-dawn breakfast. “Where is she?”

“She went off to visit Grandma on Tuesday, she won’t be back for at least a week.” That at least was a relief. Walburga had always been worse than Cygnus, he knew now he could defeat Cygnus one on one without hurting himself too badly, but he wasn’t sure he could face Walburga, wasn’t sure his life-long fear of her wouldn’t strangle him as soon as he set eyes on her.

“Father is dead,” Regulus said, his words cutting through the images of their mother in his mind.

Sirius braced himself against the wall to push himself back onto his feet and gripped his wand. He didn’t care what had happened to Cygnus, didn’t miss him, felt no sorrow even though he knew it was the truth, he just wanted to go home, to be anywhere but here. He wanted James.

He attempted to apparate out, not even caring that he’d probably splinch himself in the process, but the house had always loved Regulus much more than it’d ever loved Sirius, even when he’d been a little boy playing hide and seek with the house-elves in darkened corners, and whatever he wanted, it was happy to comply, trapping Sirius here in this hell hole.

“I don’t have a father,” he said, without feeling. It was true, the only real father he’d ever known was Fleamont Potter, and James’s father had died two years previously. He forced himself to breathe deeply, even if it did mean filling his lungs with the stench of the roses Walburga always had Kreacher filling every possible space with, the room ceasing to spin and his stomach settling enough that he could concentrate.

Standing straight fully on his own feet, he pointed his wand directly at Regulus’s face, an undeniable threat even his brother wasn’t stupid enough to ignore, the arrogance in him fading quickly into fear Sirius could have read a mile away. Sirius wasn’t good at hiding his emotions, he never had been, despite Walburga’s constant punishment for it; Regulus was worse, his eyes widening and his mouth dropping open to protest.

“You will let me leave this place right now or I will kill you.” He was surprised at how much he meant the words that left him and realised it was a killing curse he was preparing to cast with his wand aimed at his brother’s face. He shifted his grip on his wand, slackening it ever so slightly, the memory of James whispering “he’s not worth it, Si,” in the forefront of his mind.

Regulus threw up his empty hands, an easy concession to Sirius superiority in wand work. “I have information for you, about the Dark Lord, you’re not here so I can hurt you.”

“Liar.” Sirius flicked his wrist in a quick slash and let whatever spell his brain had subconsciously decided to cast instead of one of the Unforgivables go. His heart stopped for a second, watching as the white flash hit Regulus solidly beneath his collarbone and blood started pouring from him in great red gashes across his torso. Regulus let out a little gasp of pain, more restrained than he would’ve expected, and he ran out of the room, happy to leave his brother bleeding onto their mother’s ancient carpet if it meant getting away from this place.

“Kreacher!” Regulus cried out as he dashed for the door, breathless but still full of command for his little helper.

A loud _crack_ and a thin, knobbly hand gripped one of his wrists, using it to twist him and grab the other. His arms were wrenched back with far more force than Sirius would’ve thought possible for an aging house-elf and he felt Kreacher’s own magic bind them together, another tendril wrapping around his knees. Sirius fell the floor face first, unable to raise his hands to face himself and falling entirely on his nose, immediately feeling pain lash through his skull as it broke and blood started pouring from it. He coughed, turning his head and forcing some of the blood out so he could breathe without again without effectively being drowned in his own blood. Small, unchildlike hands shoved hard at his shoulder, flipping him onto his back, crushing his hands beneath his own weight. An ugly face filled his vision, all bulbous nose and drooping, oversized ears. Sirius expected to his slash of the malicious smile when he remembered being aimed at him back when he’d still lived in his mother’s house, but Kreacher only stared down at him with a face full of hatred.

“You shouldn’t have run, Sirius, why are you always so rash?” He couldn’t see Regulus, but he could hear his footsteps drawing closer, uneven with the pain of his shredded chest. He sank to the floor beside Sirius’s head and leant his head back just underneath one of the many house-elves heads that lined the hallways. Sirius had always wondered how Kreacher felt about having both his parents heads stuck on the wall like trophies, but now really wasn’t the time to ask. Regulus kicked Sirius head, gently enough that it was probably an accident, as he settled down beside him.

“Kreacher, bring me some Strengthening Solution, and something for these.” Regulus gestured to his bloody chest and smiled at the disgusting little being, blood loss and exhaustion sardining his face of all colour. Kreacher smiled back, a warped thing, made even more sickening by the fact it was completely genuine, and bowed so low Sirius thought he might topple over.

“Of course, Master Regulus.”

Regulus waited until the house-elf was gone, bashing away somewhere in the potions cupboard Walburga kept in the bathroom on the second floor, before he tried to speak Sirius again, and he wasn’t sure whether it was to catch his breath or to keep whatever he wanted to say secret from his closest friend.

“Good to see he’s got someone else to wank over now the old hag’s on her last legs,” Sirius drawled before his brother had the chance to say anything.

Regulus let out a long sigh, resigned, like he was so much more mature than Sirius. Because kidnapping your brother and tying him up on the ground so you can tell him something is obviously very mature, especially considering the fear that’d been in his eyes mere seconds ago. Regulus was the same as always it seemed, perfectly happy to act superior when he’d gotten the upper hand through little of his own work.

“As I said before, I have something to tell you,” he said as if nothing had happened, as if they weren’t both now covered in blood caused by each other. He peered down at Sirius, his blue eyes brighter set in his grey face.

“Unless it’s about how to kill Voldemort, I really couldn’t care less,” Sirius spat and shifted his wrists and knees to see it the bonds had any give in them. They stayed firm, if possible only becoming tighter, enough that Sirius knew if he moved them too much, his wrists would start to bleed.

Regulus winced at the name of his beloved master but said, “It is, actually.”

* * *

The two men, defined as much only by the war, who were otherwise only teenagers, sat at their mother’s kitchen table, a false mirror image of themselves as children. Except now, Sirius’s wrists were bound behind his back, at such an angle that his shoulders were starting to ache, Regulus was still bleeding heavily from his open wounds, and in truth, they never sat at the kitchen table as children in the first place.

Pain radiated from Sirius’s nose to fill his head, barely able to think over it and he tried not to move his face much to avoid making it any worse, but he kept his eyes trained unflinchingly on Regulus. He was and always would be the better dueller, yet Regulus had proven himself far more dangerous than Sirius would ever have guessed of him and he was wandless, the bindings around his wrist somehow preventing him from performing magic free handed. He flexed his hands again, succeeding only in making the binding cut further into his wrists, probably enough to bleed and glared steadily at Regulus. Yet there was something there now that hadn’t been there earlier, a tiny fray in Kreacher’s magic. Careful to keep him expression the same and his shoulders still, he started to pull at it.

Kreacher, ever the loyal slave to everyone in the Black family but Sirius returned to his favourite master quickly, three or four bottles in his over-long fingered hands. Regulus smiled at him gratefully, thanked him and drank from what Sirius knew was the Strengthening Solution, the same potion as all Order members were required to keep on their person at all times, should the worst happen, hastily, spilling some of it onto his already blood soaked robes. Immediately his face began to regain some of its colour, returning to impossibly white from the flat grey of the dead and dying. Sirius knew the colour intimately having seen so many people die in the few years since he’d left Hogwarts. Regulus had left the school just months ago, and Sirius found himself wondering how many corpses Regulus had seen since then, how many he’d caused.

Revulsion rose in Sirius and he pulled desperately at the binding on his wrists again, working quicker at the fray, desperate to get away from this murdering brother of his. Hot, sticky blood ran down his hands as he pulled too hard and the rope cut into his wrists. Regulus pulled off his robes and examined the gashes across his chest with an almost disinterested look on his face. Sirius looked away, unable to stop the guilt twisting in his stomach at the thought of what he’d done to him, even if he was awful, even though he deserved worse. He didn’t want to be there, whatever Regulus had to say, it was undoubtedly lies and Sirius had had enough of his brother’s lies over the years, of his broken promises, even if Regulus had never really said them, and they were all the imaginings of an adolescent Sirius, desperate for a brother who loved him before he found one who did in James.

_James_. The thought of his best friend had his chest squeezing painfully. James would be waking from his sleep by now, wondering where Sirius was, if he was safe, biting his thumb in that way he always did when he was too worried to speak, like he had the night Fleamont and Euphemia had died. He hoped James was still asleep, that he wouldn’t wake until Sirius was back and his nose was fixed and all this blood was washed away.

“As I was saying,” Regulus said suddenly, his voice significantly stronger than it had been when he’d collapsed on the floor beside Sirius. His chest was healing astonishingly quickly, a thick yellow paste Sirius had never seen before almost the exact colour of calendula petals covered his wounds and seemed to be the source of his enhanced healing. Shirtless, Sirius could see a handful of other scars marring his brother’s skin, significantly less than Sirius’s own, and the Dark Mark curling across his forearm like a poisonous stain. “I know how to kill the Dark Lord, and I want your help.”

The sentence was ridiculous, the very idea was ridiculous, and yet Sirius found himself looking Regulus in the eyes for conformation. He saw no deceit there, only a desperate need for Sirius to understand. He didn’t.

“You, Regulus Black, favourite son of Walburga Black, muggle-born hater, Death Eater at seventeen, and general piece of scum, want to kill Voldemort, who you still call ‘Lord’ by the way, and you want my help doing it.”

Regulus’s anger grew steadily as Sirius spoke, bristling with indignation and clenching his fists when Sirius called him _scum_. It was exactly the same word he’d hissed to Sirius about in reference to Remus years previously when Snape had told him about his lycanthropy. Sirius was pleased it provoked the same rage in him that it had in Sirius all those years ago.

Regulus stood and turned his back to him when he finished, better at dealing with the Black family anger issues than Sirius, if nothing else. When he spoke, his voice was devoid of emotion, like he was asking about the weather, or whether or not Bellatrix was clinically insane.

“The Dark Lord has attempted to make himself immortal by making horcruxes, and I’ve found one. I believe he has at least one other. You know what a horcrux is, yes?”

“Of course I know what a horcrux is,” Sirius snapped.

Back when they were sixteen, James had been obsessed with his own mortality, and how to ‘fix’ it, and so Sirius had been too. After many, many failed attempts at making a philosopher’s stone, they’d looked at other routes which had led to them sitting on James’s bed under the invisibility cloak reading stolen books on immortality from the restricted section by wand light. In the end, there had only been one reference to horcruxes, but it’d put the idea in their heads, and when James had stumbled upon a book with much more in depth information about them whilst clearing out his parents library after their death, he hadn’t been able to stop himself sharing the information with Sirius. By then, any notion of living forever, or even through the next few years was gone. It wasn’t at all surprising to him that Voldemort had created one though, or even several.

“Good,” Regulus said. “Then you know its almost impossible to destroy one.”

Thinking back on it, the book hadn’t mentioned how you might destroy a horcrux you’d made, not that he or James had noticed anyway. Presumably it assumed someone would never want to become mortal again after becoming immortal, though Sirius wasn’t sure he agreed. He’d seen far too many people die recently, and he didn’t think if he and James had been able to make themselves live forever they would have chosen to do so when the war was done. He stayed silent regardless, still completely unsure of the truth of Regulus’s words.

“Assuming you’re not a traitor to your beloved James Potter and his cause, you’ll agree to help me. I want him dead as much as you do and getting rid of his horcrux is the only way to make sure it’s done properly.” The taunt about James, as if he was the only thing Sirius was capable of being loyal to, set him teeth on edge, and it was the return of the triumphant look in his eyes when he turned to Sirius and raw him riled up that revealed his lie. This was all a rouse, a way to keep him away from James.

He pulled fiercely at the fray of the magical rope and found with his constant toying with it the whole thing had come loose. He pulled his wrists free and pushed to his feet.

“No, Sirius,” Regulus gasped, his wand outstretched to stop his brother, but by then Sirius already had his own wand in his hand and was starting to run away again.

“If it’s true, Regulus, prove it. Bring me the horcrux,” he shouted as he darted out the front door. He didn’t stop to see if there were muggles around, just apparated straight home.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, he nearly splinched himself with the effort, he could feel his flesh longing to tear as he landed and was thrown out into his living room. He didn’t have time to make sure he was still whole though, James could be in danger, and he was all that mattered.

Fear climbed up his throat as he did a quick scan of the room, and unable to see his best friend, cried his name. He didn’t wait for a reply, simply ran straight into the kitchen to look for him there. If they had James, he didn’t have a second to waste.

He stopped dead in his tracks, mouth open to shout for James again, when he saw him sitting at his kitchen table. Everything about him looked tense, his shoulders almost up to his ears, his hands gripped together so tightly his skin was nearly white over his knuckles, biting his thumb hard.

“ _James_.” The name spilled from his mouth unbidden, half a sob, such was the relief at seeing the other man safe and whole exactly where he should be. James’s eyes darted up to see who the intruder was and Sirius saw terror in them so clearly he thought James might just have seen a basilisk if he hadn’t jumped to his feet and ran at Sirius full pelt. He only just had time to open his arms up to his best friend before James was upon him, holding him as tightly to his chest as he could possibly manage, like if he pressed hard enough they’d merge into one person.

Sirius pulled back to look at him, examining his face. There was no sign of pain there, only worry deep in his hazel eyes and in the thin lines around his mouth. “James, are you alright? No one’s been here?”

“Just Marlene to see where you’d gone. What happened? Where have you been?” James’s voice was so high, so tight with worry Sirius could hardly recognise it when he questioned him. James’s hands were on his face, twisting it this way and that, checking him over. He must have looked a mess still, he could feel the blood from burst nose still clinging to his chin, thick and sticky, and his nose itself was still radiating pain. James’s long fingers touched the bridge of his nose lightly, curiously, and let go suddenly as Sirius decidedly failed to hide his grimace when the searing pain increased to a fever pitch. Sirius grabbed James’s wrists to keep them still, slipping his hands into the other man’s when he noticed them shaking. The feel of their palms pressed together calmed his own breathing, James was safe and warm under his fingertips.

“James,” he said, his forcing his voice to be calm, comforting, or so he hoped. James shifted, taking another step back but twining their fingers together.

“What happened Padfoot?” he asked again, Sirius attempt to sooth him apparently having worked as he sounded less frantic now, still concerned but softer. “Marlene came back and you’d been grabbed and it was all a trap, no Death Eaters ever showed up at the house, or here.”

“It was Regulus,” he admitted. “He just wanted to get me, I think. I thought maybe it was to get to you, to keep me away.”

James shook his head again and looked at him steadily for a moment, hazel eyes boring into his own, assessing him in ways Sirius didn’t fully understand. He dropped Sirius’s hands, his fingers tingling with the loss of warmth and reached for his wand where he’d left it on the table.

“Let me fix your nose. Sit down.”

Sirius followed James to the couch and allowed himself to sink into it, not realising how much he’d needed to relax until he was letting his muscles do so as James knelt between his thighs. A unexpected rush of feeling overwhelmed him at the sight of those dark fingers gripping his knee and he could only hope that the blood covering his face would disguise the warmth rising in his cheeks. He shuffled back in the seat, but James let go of his knee and reached out for his face, holding it more gently than Sirius would have thought he was capable. With his free hand, he pointed his wand squarely at Sirius’s nose.

“Episkey.”

He winced as the spell washed over his face, his nose suddenly burning hot and icy cold as it healed. With a definite crunch and a flash of pain, he felt all the bones and cartilage slot back into place. James cast another spell, silently this time, to clean most of the gore from his face. When he was satisfied it was good enough, he came to sit beside Sirius, close enough that their thighs were pressed together.

“Tell me about Regulus,” James said, and so he did.

When he told him about being back in the house, how awful it made him feel, James leaned into him, brushing their shoulders together so they touching all the way down one side, a silent move to comfort him and Sirius accepted it gladly.

“He says he knows how to kill You-Know-Who.”

James, who’d been silent throughout the story let out a distrustful scoff at that, and Sirius couldn’t help but agree. He had no idea what Regulus’s agenda here was, if James was perfectly safe, but the idea that Regulus would know how to kill the second most powerful wizard of all time, and not only that, that he was willing to help them actually do it, was laughable. He didn’t expect the sadness that filled him at that and James noticed as he always did, throwing an arm around him and touching their heads together.

“What’d you say?”

“I told him to fuck off, obviously.” James smiled, the corners of his mouth almost wide enough to be a full on grin. Sirius grinned back.

“Obviously.”

“And to prove it, if he wanted me to do anything about it,” Sirius said. James’s smile fell immediately.

“Do you think he will?” he asked.

“I have no idea.”

* * *

Aberdeenshire was always cold compared to London, but it was prettier in its autumn colours, all Gryffindor red and gold. The Potter Mansion was located down a narrow twisting drive from the top of the nearest village, lined with old oak trees and young birches, all perfect at keeping a wizarding family hidden from their prying muggle neighbours. The forest behind it was vast and private, belonging entirely to James now, the perfect hunting ground for a werewolf with a conscience and his three animal companions.

Except three were down to two now, Peter having sent a note to say he couldn’t make it again for the third time in a row, and Remus himself hadn’t shown at up at their regular meeting time of five so they’d have time to spend together before his transformation. Sirius watched James as he stared out the drawing room window, waiting for their friend to arrive as if he actually might get there nearly on time. After their last year at Hogwarts, James hadn’t been able to set foot in his childhood home, had left it to Sirius to set all the protective charms around the place. He’d wanted to sell it, only Sirius’s insistence that he’d regret it stopping him giving it away to the first bidder. Though he’d thanked Sirius for not letting him sell it later, he still seemed uncomfortable there, as if he was half expected the ghost of Euphemia Potter to float down the stairs and tell him off for lazing around and bringing mud into the kitchen.

Sirius missed Euphemia and Fleamont too, all the time, much more so than either of his parents, or Regulus, but he knew it was best to keep James from dwelling on it for too long just before they became Padfoot and Prongs.

“Want to go for a chippy?” he asked, knowing the food and the ride there on the back of his motorbike would help clear James’s head.

James agreed quickly, like Sirius had known he would, and within moments they were speeding down the country road back into the village, James’s jean clad thighs pressed close against the back of his own. Sometimes, when life had been less pressing, they’d just driven for miles and miles, happy with the quiet intimacy of their friendship allowed, but that had been years ago now, and Sirius revelled in the stolen moments of easy closeness it gave him.

“Alright, lads?” a familiar voice called as they walked into the chip shop, the heat from the counters warming their wind blasted muscles. They both smiled at the boy behind the counter.

Sirius would never refer to himself or James as boys, not now, they’d both seen and done too much, but he couldn’t think of Jack as a man, even though he was the same age as them, James’s best friend throughout the muggle primary school he’d been sent to. There was just something about his face, as fine boned and attractive as it ever had been, that said _young_ in a way that theirs didn’t anymore _._

He grinned at Sirius, the tiny quirk at the corner of his lips the only hint of their past. Sirius could remember, very vividly, being sixteen and standing in the gardens of the Potter Mansion kissing that very mouth hungrily, like he’d die without it. It hadn’t been his first kiss, not even his first kiss with a boy, but he’d liked Jack, more than the rest of them, and for a few months he’d thought he’d loved him. He wondered if, had the war not destroyed everything, he would have, would’ve been his boyfriend. A pointless exercise really, the war had arrived full force just as Sirius turned seventeen and he didn’t love him after all.

James ordered for them both, standing just in front of Sirius as if to protect him from Jack’s flirtations. The idea made Sirius smile, and he was still smiling when they leaned against the bike and stuffed battered fish into their mouths.

“What’re you grinning at?” James asked with both eyebrows raised, his voice warm and full of affection, amused enough that Sirius knew he’d be smiling too if he wasn’t currently half way through eating a chip.

“You,” Sirius said simply and finished off his chips, sucking off the grease from his fingers. James’s eyes lingered on his mouth, following the movement. He raised an eyebrow at the other man, a smirk growing on his lips when he removed his fingers.

“Been too long, Prongs?”

James blushed violently as Sirius let out a cackling laugh. James shoved him half-heartedly into the motorbike and pulled on his helmet.

“C’mon you fiend, lets get back before Remus gets there.”

Sirius was still laughing when he started the bike with a kick and drove away, pleased that at least James’s mind was off the war and his parents and Lily, even if it was just for a few moments.

* * *

Padfoot ran over soft woodland ground, mulch from decaying leaves covering his path and making his paws slip. Somewhere in the forest, a werewolf he loved howled at the moon and he couldn’t help but echo the noise. He stayed stock still, calling to the moon for what was probably only seconds, but in Padfoot’s mind time was a slippery thing, seconds could easily become minutes and hours and days. Hooves, muffled by the wet ground underneath them, galloped towards him in quick stops and starts, the strange shifting of a deer. He ran towards the sound, chasing the deer in the hopes it was his deer, and not one of the many that always occupied this forest. The deer, an enormous stag, careened towards him, stopping too late and toppling over him entirely. The deer, Prongs, Padfoot understood, his deer, licked his muzzle gently, enquiring if he was hurt. He shook, and finding no pain, ran towards where he thought the werewolf was, listening closely to check his deer followed.

The smell of death and decay hit him suddenly, stronger than the earthy smell that always began in Autumn and lasted all winter, almost human like. He barked, three times, the way that meant danger and stopped in the middle of a moonlit clearing. Padfoot looked at the scene before him, sniffed the ground hard, and shifted.

Sirius grabbed for James wrist behind him as he heard his best friend become a man again.

“Oh merlin,” James breathed. “Was that Moony?”

Sirius shook his head no.

The muggles were torn apart, bits and pieces of them strewn around the forest floor. The bite marks were clear as day, in a shoulder, a leg, through an arm.

“Go get Moony,” he said, moving closer to see if he recognised the poor blokes from the village. “There are more werewolves here.”


	3. Chapter 3

Remus sat at the kitchen table, head in his hands, clutching desperately at his own hair. Grey was already starting to show at his temples where the strands curled there, fading his normally nut brown hair to something dull. James stood by his side, gripping his shoulder in a show of support, his face grim. Sirius had been right, the bodies weren’t Remus’s work, they were well over a week old, but it didn’t stop the guilt Sirius knew he was feeling. It was the same guilt he felt whenever Bellatrix was in the Prophet for having killed more innocent muggle borns. It wasn’t him, but it could’ve been, had things been different, it was one of his ilk. James always hated when either of them voiced their feelings on that matter, always promised them that it was their choices that made them different and they were both always quiet about it after. It didn’t change the truth though, the fact that both of them looked in the mirror some days and saw a monster staring back.

James and Sirius had taken it in turns to keep Remus distracted and away from the muggles in their animagus forms until the moon set in the west and the sun rose in the east, and Remus was released from his curse back into his real body, roaring in pain as his bones and muscles twisted and bent back into their proper positions.  He was sick onto the grass, wet with morning dew, when he saw the bodies.

“Did I-? Was it-?”

James and Sirius both shook their heads vigorously as Remus struggled to even get the sentence out, crouching beside him to grip his shoulders.

“No, they’re days old, it wasn’t you, I promise,” James said, keeping his eyes on Remus’s as he shuddered violently, an aftershock of his transformation.

Remus looked around to Sirius, knowing like he did that occasionally James would lie to them when they’d done something awful if he thought they didn’t mean it. Sirius shook his head.

“It wasn’t you, Moony,” he repeated. With that, Remus sank back against him, and let out a quiet little sob as pain and guilt washed over him in waves.

Sirius had been the one to apparate them all to the aurors office when Remus had calmed down enough to be able to speak properly. The place had been in chaos, running with hardly any staff, all the aurors out in the field dealing with Voldemort’s Death Eaters. In comparison, a werewolf attack was nothing, but if the werewolves were in league with Voldemort, it could be far more serious, a clue to something more.

Auror Scrimgeour had been the one to take the initial statements from them all. Sirius had never much liked the man, too gruff and dismissive of any methods bar his own, and his dislike only grew as he questioned them as to why they were running around in the woods in the middle of the night in the first place, his eyes narrowing with every lie Sirius told. He mistrusted him on principle, had dealt with a few too many of Sirius’s worse relatives to believe a word that left his mouth. He could see the reluctance in his face when he had no choice but to let Sirius go free along with the other two when their stories matched up exactly.

Back at the flat, Sirius thought he might have rather dealt with a few more hours questioning from the man than a self-loathing Remus. James and Sirius both liked physical contact and verbal reassurances when they needed comfort, primarily from each other, but Remus always liked to be left alone to think things through, and they were both loathed to leave him now. Intellectually, Sirius knew Remus would deal with it his own way and come out the other side a little worse for ware but alive, yet he couldn’t help make think to his own abysmal coping mechanisms and he knew James was even worse. Picking up your best friend of the bathroom floor, half dead and covered in his own blood on more than one occasion would do that to a person.

“Please,” Remus said when they both stayed hovering around him, voice strained with exhaustion and something else Sirius didn’t want to think about, “Just leave me.”

“Stay here tonight, you can have my room,” James said.

“Alright,” he conceded. “But leave me be till then.”

James nodded, though he didn’t move away from Remus’s side.

“C’mon Prongs,” Sirius said, grabbing for James’s wrist and pulling him to his bedroom.

Once they were there, James perched on the end of the bed, biting his thumb and leaving Sirius to shut the door behind him. Sirius flung himself down beside him, exhaustion from being awake for over forty hours settling over him like an insurmountable weight keeping him down. He fought it to place a comforting hand on James’s back, keeping it there when he felt James relax a little and let his eyes close, just for a moment.

“He’ll be okay, Jem,” he said to the ceiling, taking the hand James had been biting into his own when he turned towards him.

“I know, it’s just,” James sighed, unable to finish the sentence.

“I know,” Sirius agreed, because he didn’t need him to. “Sleep.”

“I don’t think I can,” James said, but lay down beside Sirius anyway. Sirius pried his eyes open to look at his best friend.

“Try,” he said. “For me.”

James nodded and shut his eyes reluctantly, neither of them bothering to change. Within moments his breathing deepened and slowed, and he stretched an arm out over Sirius, protective even in his sleep. Despite his insistence that James sleep, Sirius stayed awake until he heard the indistinct sound of Remus moving in the kitchen. The sound of James’s bedroom door shutting let him know Remus was keeping his promise, and finally he let his exhaustion overtake him.

* * *

“Do you want to see if we can get some of this map done today?”

James was bent over the map they were both supposed to be working on, sipping a cup of too strong coffee, his eyes methodically following the lines of the building. Sirius pulled his hair up into a bun and went to stand beside him, ignoring the strange look James gave him and the way his eyes lingered on the back of his neck.

“Well, we can at least add this magical signature on,” Sirius said and pointed his wand at the map, casting the memory of Regulus’s magic straight onto the parchment. A tiny dot with the name _Regulus Black_ attached flashed in the centre before it disappeared, Regulus obviously not being in the building. The sight of a magical map had a warm feeling of nostalgia filling Sirius’s heart for a moment before dread set back in, a constant feeling that sometimes threatened to drown him since the had war began in earnest in the months before he’d left Hogwarts. He knew if they were to get the map in full working order they’d have an awful lot more work to do, but a need to do something else entirely prickled at the back of his mind instead, brought on by the sight of Remus crying in a forest, washed in the orange light of daybreak.

“I want to go and see Lily today.” He looked at James without moving his head, allowing him to process the information without Sirius jumping to any conclusions. James’s face tightened, his lips thinning and his eyebrows drawing together above his glasses. He let out a short, frustrated sigh.

“Okay.” Sirius wasn’t sure what that meant and waited to see if James would continue. Not knowing what James was going to say left him uncertain, an uncomfortable feeling when applied to James, Sirius had never been unsure when it came to James since the day they’d met. James looked up, reading Sirius like an open book, and smiled, a small thing he could tell he didn’t really mean.

“I’m not ready to see her yet,” James said, looking down to Sirius’s hands still wrapped around his wand. He reached out to touch the back of it gently, his fingers skittering over Sirius skin, formulating what he wanted to say rather than blurt out the first thing that came into his head like he might have done just a year ago. He’d grown exponentially in the summer Sirius had come to live permanently with the Potters and even now he continued to grow, to mature; it made Sirius strangely proud. “There’s something I need to tell you before you go, though.”

Nervous hippogriffs fluttered under Sirius’s ribs, surprising him. He’d know James would tell him what had went on eventually, had waited for the answers to his silent questions for over a month, yet here they were about to be revealed, and he almost didn’t want to know, didn’t want his opinion of Lily, wonderful, clever Lily, to be changed on the word of someone else, even if it was the person he loved most.

“You can tell me Prongs,” is what he said instead of all that, reaching out for James’s shoulder and digging his thumb into his collarbone. James nodded and looked up, meeting Sirius eyes beneath his lashes, setting those hippogriffs aflutter again, for a different reason this time.

“I left Lily, not…” James trailed off, and as always Sirius knew the end of the sentence without having to hear it.

“Why?” Sirius hadn’t meant to ask, had meant to wait and see if James was ready to tell him yet, but the words where out his mouth before he could stop them. He reached up and took Sirius’s wrist in his hand, keeping his grip loose as to not scare Sirius off, as if he ever could.

“You know I love you more than anyone else in the world, right?” Something warm stole over him at the words, making a smile want to curl at his mouth. He only nodded, knowing now wasn’t the time to revel in how much James loved him. “We’re probably going to die in this war, at least one of us, and I couldn’t stand the thought of one day realising I’d never see you again, knowing I could have spent more time with you.”

James had looked away again as he spoke, keeping his knowing gaze away from his as a flush rose in his cheek. Sirius shifted the grip he had on James’s shoulder to hook his elbow around his neck, pulling him in close for a hug. He hated that James was embarrassed that he wanted to spend more time with Sirius when Sirius felt it too, felt an uncomfortable ache under his ribs whenever James was away from him for too long.

“Lily deserves to be loved more than I love her,” James whispered into his neck. Sirius thought he’d be more upset but his voice was even, as solid as it ever got.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed into the mess of black hair that tickled his face. “But I love you most too.”

James laughed at that and stood up, summoning Sirius’s leather jacket and handing it to him. “I know you do. Now go see my ex-fiancée.”

* * *

Lily swung the door open before Sirius even had the chance to knock and smiled at him brightly, a different face entirely than the one he’d seen at the Order meeting two weeks previously. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and Sirius didn’t know if it was just the change in lighting, but it seemed luminous, back to its normal radiant shade of deep red. Her whole face seemed radiant, green eyes huge and vibrant and smiling in a way that matched her mouth when she looked at him.

“Sirius!” she cried and jumped into his arms. He grinned into her hair, breathed in the coconut scent of her shampoo, and didn’t think about how James loved him more than her.

“Hey Lils,” he said and let her go easily when she began to pull away. He followed her down the hallway and into the living room. The sight of it unsettled him slightly, there was something off about it, something marginally different than the last time he was there, and for a second he couldn’t put his finger on what the change was until he spotted Lily’s jumped flung over the back of the sofa. All of James’s things had gone, no little references of his best friend there like they had been for a year, no dirty socks stuffed down the side of the sofa like they were in his flat, it didn’t even smell like James anymore, and Sirius wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Lily passed him a mug of tea she summoned from the kitchen and gestured for him to sit down. He perched at the edge, his right knee bouncing. This wasn’t his best friend’s flat anymore and he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to act.

“You look well,” he said to Lily, because she did, and to hide his own discomfort. She smiled and leaned back, arching an eyebrow at Sirius’s rigid posture.

“You’d look better if you didn’t look like you had a broomstick up your arse. Relax, or aren’t we friends anymore?”

Sirius flashed her a smile in the hope it would hide the unease in his face as he leaned back. “Of course we’re friends, Lily. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Well, I mean, you’ve barely spoken to me in a month Sirius, I wasn’t sure you still liked me.”

Sirius swallowed against the discomfort rising in him and fought against shifting again. Lily was right, he should have come to see her before now, or at least written. He’d seen her at the Order meeting yes, and then she’d said she understood, but that’d been weeks ago and he’d felt bad about not seeing her then.

“I’m sorry, Lily. I had a run in with Regulus and we had an issue with Remus’s furry little problem then other day and-”

She held up a hand to stop him, a tiny smirk at her lips and Sirius knew he’d been played like a fiddle. He smiled at her, relieved that he’d been let off the hook and that Lily still liked him well enough to tease him.

“You’re forgiven Sirius, I know how you and James can get. Marlene said about Regulus, and Remus came by yesterday. Do you think he’ll be alright?”

Sirius wasn’t sure whether she was talking about Regulus or Remus. “I hope so.”

He knew Remus would be fine. He’d been better the morning after he’d stayed over, insisting that he needed to go home earlier than they would’ve liked and looked like he’d had a better night’s sleep than he had in months. All three of them always slept better knowing the other two, preferably three, but Peter seemed disinclined to speak to them much anymore, were close by where they could keep each other safe. James had managed to force some breakfast down his throat before he left and Sirius hadn’t heard from him since, hardly unusual in itself, but he’d recognised the small barn owl he often used to send his messages standing at the kitchen window two mornings ago, waiting on James, and James would have said if something in the letter concerned him.

Regulus he was less sure about. For days after the attack, James and Sirius had both been on edge, waiting for a second round, yet time passed and nothing happened other than an angry Marlene showing up and demanded why no one had contacted her to say they were safe. Sirius still thought he’d been lying about the whole thing, though it didn’t stop him waiting on quiet days for a message from his brother telling him about how he’d found the locket and was ready to show it to him.

Lily coughed politely, as if to draw his attention back to her and with a jolt he realised he hadn’t been listening to a word she’d said for the past few minutes and his tea had gone cold. She let out a quiet laugh at his expense as he took a gulp of the tea and made a face at how awful it was.

“That’s what you get for ignoring me,” she said. “How is my darling ex-fiancé doing?”

“Well,” he said, and regretted it instantly and the sharp look of pain that crossed her face, attempting to fix his blunder, “I mean, he misses you of course and he was distraught for the first few days.”

“You tell pretty lies, pretty boy. I know he’s happier now he gets to be with you all the time.”

She didn’t look annoyed, a little resigned perhaps. Sirius didn’t know what to say.

“Tell me about when else has been going on,” Lily said, giving him an easy out and he took it gleefully.

He told her about the death eater attacks he’d helped avert, about how good it’d been to run wild in the forest before they’d found the bodies and about the little old lady that lived in his building who always got him to carry her shopping. He listened to her talk about her own order missions in the vague terms they’d all been ordered to use, about how Marlene was doing with the healer training Sirius hadn’t had time to ask her about.

“They should get married, Dorcas and her,” Sirius gushed. It’d be the best wedding ever, and they’d be so happy.

“That’s what I keep telling them!” Lily exclaimed with a laugh. She was on the verge of continuing when the door slammed open.

James stood in the doorway, wild panic in his eyes as he searched for Sirius. Lily and Sirius both stood, Sirius could feel her tensing up to start shouting at James for bursting in so unannounced.

James cut her off.

“Sirius, its Regulus.” From behind him peered the angry, terrified form of Kreacher.

“Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to fetch you, traitor of his mistress’s blood. He is dying.”

* * *

Late afternoon sun streamed in through the kitchen windows, thrown open to let in the fresh air, painting the room in deep orange light. Everything was immaculate, not a single thing out of place, all the silverware sparkling, even the floor had been scrubbed clean of Sirius’s blood from the last time he’d been in the room.

Sirius didn’t look at any of those things, his eyes locked on his brother, covered in slashes from an unknown attacker and gasping, each breath he took audibly rattling in his throat. He was at his side before he even thought about it, hands of his brother’s face, forcing his eyes open and doing his best to examine the gashes covering his torso, not unlike the ones Sirius himself had caused a week before.

“What’s going on?” he snapped, fear making his voice sharper than it might otherwise have been.

“The horcrux,” Regulus rasped, and lifted his shaking hand to Sirius’s. Enclosed in it was a locket, red from the blood seeping from the slice in Regulus’s hand getting trapped in the ornate swirls of the S emblazoned on it. Sirius took it, felt it pulse as the magic tried to sink itself into him, and threw it away towards the far wall, uncaring for its fate when his brother was half-dead on the table.

“What happened? Tell me what you need,” he demanded as Regulus’s eyes slipped shut. Sirius shook his shoulders, panic stopping his lungs from working properly, short, shallow breaths coming hard and fast.

“Poison. Water,” Regulus whispered, barely audible over Kreacher’s sobbing, slamming his head against the floor.

Sirius’s head snapped up, scanning the room for water, even that seeming somehow impossible. Anger at himself flared; Sirius was supposed to be good in a crisis, he’d kept someone alive until the Healers arrived before, yet he couldn’t get his brain to function properly.

James appeared opposite him, a glass with the Black family crest branded onto it filled with water and poured the liquid into Regulus’s barely open mouth. Regulus coughed, his body surging upwards into a sitting position. Sirius caught him around the back, supporting him as James gave him more water. He drank deeply, and when the glass was finished, demanded more. James went to get more as Sirius held him still.

“Eat this,” Lily ordered, holding out a lump of what Sirius assumed to be bezoar, and wished he’d thought of it earlier. It was worth a try, even though it probably wouldn’t do anything. Regulus only stared at Lily, still and silent, and glared at Sirius when he forced the bezoar into his mouth and let James press the re-filled glass to his lips.

He swallowed the bezoar down and his body shuddered, more blood oozing from his other wounds. James’s eyes met Sirius’s over his brother’s body, knowing silently that Sirius wanted him to hold Regulus as Sirius visually examined the gashes. His mind was still buzzing, his breath too fast to let any oxygen get to his brain but the memory of yellow paste healing similar wounds struck him as too important to miss.

“I’m going to get Marlene,” Lily said. Sirius wasn’t listening, letting her voice wash over him as he took the house-elf’s shoulders in his hands, his sharp bones digging into him with his over tight grip.

He looked up groggily, huge eyes wet and puffy, a bruise already starting to form on his head. Rage filled his eyes.

“You!” he cried. “This is all your doing, blood traitor.”

Sirius ignored the accusations that only echoed the thoughts already in his head and shook the elf roughly. “The paste Kreacher, where’s the paste?”

“He’s going to die for you!”

Sirius stood and pushed Kreacher away from him, uncaring as he fell to the floor. He forced himself to take deeper breaths, to let himself think fully and racked his memories for where his mother might keep such a thing. Regulus coughed again, wet sounding and sucked in a lungful of hair, and Sirius wasted no more time thinking and ran straight to Regulus’s room.

Like the rest of the house, it was the same as it’d ever been; clean, tidy, so minimalistic you would be forgiven for thinking a ghost lived in it, not a teenager. Sirius didn’t take time to look around, just flung open the drawers, one by one, tipping them out in the search for something that could be Regulus’s miraculous healing paste. He knew his mother would never have sought out such a thing, she believed in letting things scar, which explained the mess of skin that was Sirius’s back, so Regulus must have been keeping it in his room somewhere. When he found nothing of use in the drawers, Sirius moved on the wardrobe, pulling the doors wide.

He didn’t bother gaping at the cauldron inside, something foul smelling bubbling within it, black and shiny as the oil his bike leaked sometimes, and poked through the hundreds of shelves surrounding it. The were filled with tiny vials, of potions and ingredients, most of which Sirius didn’t recognise. He moved them haphazardly not caring if the crashed or bounced in his desperation and didn’t even let himself celebrate when he found a tub of familiar looking yellow paste, only ran back into the kitchen at full pelt.

Marlene was there already, casting spells on Regulus and getting him to eat and drink a variety of things.

“Do you know what the potion was?” she asked Regulus as a potion she gave him only made him gag and splutter.

“Put this on his wounds,” Sirius told her, passing her the tub and stepping back. She nodded without looking at him and kept up her interrogation.

“No,” Regulus admitted. He sounded less raspy now, less like he was dying of thirst, but weaker, as if the other wounds were killing him instead.

“What did it look like, at least?” Marlene asked as she swiped some of the paste onto one of the shallower cuts across his arms. She made a little surprise noise as it worked, and hastily applied it to the rest.

“I don’t know, green?” Regulus, the idiot, had the audacity to sound irritated, like Marlene wasn’t trying to save his life.

Strong hands wrapped gripped Sirius’s biceps and slid across his back as James came to stand before him. Worry drew his eyebrows together, and he lifted his hands to Sirius’s face, tipping it so he could get a better look at him.

“Marlene’s got it sorted, he’ll be fine,” he said, brushing a thumb under Sirius’s eye. He was surprised to find it wet against his cheek when he moved it back to cup his face, he hadn’t known he’d been crying.

The raw feeling at the back of his throat overwhelmed him once he knew Regulus was safe, and without thinking of how it might hurt Lily’s feelings, he threw his arms around James’s neck and pulled him close, not letting himself cry properly, only allowing the small comfort of James holding him.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, everything will be okay,” James whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. Sirius ignored that they were in public, that Lily and Kreacher, and possibly Marlene and Regulus were watching, leaned fully into James and let himself cry for his baby brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me so long to write, so I apologise for the late update!
> 
> Also, just a quick warning, James and Sirius are pretty nasty to Kreacher in the beginning of this chapter. Nothing major, but I thought I should mention it.

James held Sirius for the whole time he cried and swore viciously when Kreacher started to berate him for being a weak, flobberworm hearted blood traitor, having gotten over his master’s deathly state. Lily helped Marlene as best she could whilst she worked, holding him this way and that, casting simpler healing spells they all knew. Sirius knew she was doing it at least partially to save him from the humiliation of having them close by as he fell apart, and was grateful for it in a way he couldn’t even begin to express.

Eventually, Marlene stood, wiped her yellow and red stained fingers on her jeans and put her hands on her hips, a thoughtful expression on her sharp featured face. Sirius dried his eyes on James’s sleeves and came to stand beside her, looking over the sleeping form of his brother’s body. His wounds were mostly closed, his breathing full and even and though he was still pale as the dead, Sirius knew he would be alright.

“I want to take him to St. Mungos,” Marlene stated and gave Sirius a level stare when he said they couldn’t. “I know that, Sirius, they’d take him to Azkaban straight away, I just want to. So I could keep a better eye on him, see how well the poison is diffusing.”

“Lets take him to our place,” he suggested instead. “Could we apparate with him?”

Lily hissed like it was an awful idea, and Marlene grimaced. “Its not really safe, but he can’t stay here.”

“He can!” Kreacher piped up, obviously angry at having been left out of the discussion. “Kreacher will take care of him!”

“No,” James and Sirius said in unison.

“When’s Walburga going to get here?” Sirius asked, barely able to look at the warped little elf. He turned instead to look for the locket, to see if it really was worth nearly dying for, and found the place where it was gone empty, the floor gleaming back at him without a blemish.

“Kreacher’s doesn’t know, she never says.” Kreacher sounded nervous, Sirius could feel the sharpness of his eyes on his back.

He murmured a summoning spell, waited a few moments, and looked up at James. He didn’t need to say anything, the glance they shared was enough, and James held Kreacher tightly by the wrist before Sirius had even stood up.

“James!” Marlene cried, hand going to stop him, but James ignored her.

“Where’s the horcrux Kreacher?” he snarled, twisting his wrist ever so slightly when he only shook his head.

“Kreacher doesn’t know what a horcrux is!”

“The locket Kreacher, where’s the locket?” Sirius moved to crouch before the house elf, the hand on his shoulder would have been tender if it weren’t for the look of rage his face.

“Kreacher hasn’t seen it since his master gave it to you!” Kreacher was nearly sobbing, but Sirius knew acromantula tears when he saw them. He touched James’s elbow, a silent request to let the house elf go, and stopped Kreacher from falling when he released his wrist.

“Liar.” He didn’t shout it, or snarl it, just said it evenly, almost like he was asking about the weather, as the muggles were prone to do. He thought that’s why Kreacher’s eyes widened further in fear, and he hastily pulled out the locket from a pouch he must have had somewhere on his person.

It pulsed again when Sirius took it from him and stood. The S was styled like a snake and almost seemed to move as Sirius looked at it. It clearly isn’t a normal locket, but Sirius wasn’t going to try and open it without first finding some more about it.

“Boys,” Marlene gasped, like they were still sixteen and she hadn’t seen them both fight Death Eaters to the death. “He’s just a house elf.”

“You don’t know what he’s like,” Lily said darkly, surprising Sirius. Sirius had never told Lily about Kreacher, and as far as he’s aware, this is the first time they’ve met. He supposed James had told her about his childhood, and though it hurt a little that James would give away his closest secrets, things not even Remus and Peter knew - though he suspected Remus did know, just hadn’t needed to be told about it - he was mostly pleased she understood, wasn’t giving him and James the same horrified look Marlene was.

Marlene looked between the three of them, eyes sharp and calculating, and pursed her lips together.

“I’m going home,” she said. “Get him out of here, and for Merlin’s sake Sirius, never come back if its making you like this.” She said goodbye to each of them and walked out the door when her apparation failed.

Marlene had never spoken to Sirius like that, like he’d done something awful, and he found himself wanting to apologise to the house elf. For a moment, he stared at Kreacher, the words ready in his throat, yet he couldn’t seem to form them on his tongue, to make his mouth say the words. Instead, telling himself that he hadn’t been that bad, not compared to how Kreacher had always treated him, he turned to look over Regulus again.

He was whole, yes, and healing well, but Marlene and Lily had been right; there was no way to apparate him without doing serious damage to his already weakened body. Asleep, there wasn’t even any way of getting assistance in moving him. The clock in the hall stuck four, the melodic song it let out vibrating in Sirius ears, almost hiding the sound of the front door opening.

Sirius’s mouth went dry, his breathing quickened as fear licked up his spine, paralysing him. His mind filled with memories of Walburga the last time he’d seen her, about to send a spell that would do more damage than Sirius had ever sustained since, purple with rage in a way he’d never seen before. A hand slipped into his, squeezing it tightly and bringing him sharply back to reality.

“Help me lift him,” James whispered, not letting go of him as they moved forward. Lily watched them, wide eyed, supporting his head as Sirius released James to sweep Regulus up. He was lighter than he should’ve been, and the world was going starting to blur at the edges as his panic constricted his lungs.

“Kreacher!” Walburga screamed when her house elf didn’t come running to her immediately. “Kreacher!”

“They’ve killed him Mistress!” Kreacher shouted as he darted out the room. “The mudblood and the blood traitors have killed Master Regulus!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck,” James muttered as he pushed open the back door, holding it open for Sirius and Lily, Regulus a dead weight in their arms.

“What?” The fury in Walburga’s voice carried in full force into the garden, carefully maintained by Kreacher. Sirius’s knees buckled as he gasped for air - why was there no _air_? - Lily moving closer to slip an arm around his waist, giving him her support.

* * *

 Sirius couldn’t remember what happened next, his thoughts coming in flashes intermingled with memories of his mother. One moment, he was collapsing into the dirt, Regulus cradled in his arms, the next he was writhing in pain on the drawing room carpet, screaming his throat raw from the agony, the next again he was on Regulus’s old broomstick, James holding him close to his chest.

“C’mon, broom, don’t fail me now,” he could hear James say, the words broken inside Sirius’s head. He focussed on his voice, not at all soothing, but James hadn’t been there that day, so it couldn’t be real, he wasn’t there anymore. “Si, I’ve got you, you’re safe. I’m here, you’re safe. You’re safe.” Sirius felt the impossible grip on his chest loosen ever so slightly, enough that the blackness around his vision started to fade. “Lily hold on tighter!” James called over his shoulder and the broom accelerated into the sky sharply, overcoming the weight trying to keep it on the ground.

Slowly, so slowly, the feel of James’s chest along his back, the sound of his voice changing between soft comfort in his ear and checking in on Lily behind them and the freezing wind forcing its way down into his lungs cleared his head, eased away the panic. He wanted to lean back even further into James, but knew it would only hinder his already tenuous control over the broom and so consoled himself with looking below them as London rushed past. They were already far away from the area Sirius had grown up in, he could see his building’s roof in the distance. He kept is eyes on it, watching as it drew closer and closer until James had them landing on it.

With so many bodies on a broomstick built for one, it seemed to give out entirely instead of land, rolling all four of them hard into the slate tiles. Sirius let out a puff of air, sharp and painful but not at all like when panic had stolen away his breath entirely and quickly rolled onto his side. Lily was already crouched over Regulus, awake after his harsh landing and James was on his way over to Sirius, worry all over his face.

“I’m fine,” Sirius assured him as he stood, hands out in a placating gesture. “I want him inside first.”

James gave him a quick once over, a tiny line between his eyebrows where they wanted to draw closer together in a frown. Sirius reached out for him, gripping his wrist for a moment before he made his way over the Regulus, who lay flat on his back, staring up at the deep blue sky, black at one horizon and a symphony of pinks, purples and oranges at the other. He wondered if Regulus still made sure to go outside as the sun set each night, desperate to see his star as he had as a child, like Sirius did sometimes still.

His brother’s eyes flicked to his when he drew near, sharper and more focussed than he’d expected of a man who’d been on the verge of death mere hours ago. Sirius crouched by his head, debating if it was worth offering his arm to pull him up and expecting a litany of abuse for daring to take him from Walburga. None came, and Regulus pushed himself up into a sitting position, leaving him panting and clutching at his chest like even the small effort had exhausted him entirely. Sirius reached out his arm in support, knowing he’d probably be pushed aside so Regulus could martyr himself by getting up alone. He had no doubt the surprise showed on his face when Regulus grasped his elbow.

It wasn’t easy getting into the flat from the roof. There was no access to the rest of the building from up there and it slanted sharply, the slate tiles slippery with the autumn rain. Eventually it was Lily who managed to shimmy down the drainpipe to Sirius’s bedroom window, sending out James’s broomstick so they could all float down. They sent Regulus down first, clutching the handle so tightly his knuckles went white and having to lean heavily on Lily when he tried to clamber through the window.

As Sirius landed on his bedroom floor, he made to speak to Regulus and Lily who were both waiting on him there, when the door burst open, a tall, lanky figure standing silhouetted in the doorway. He had his wand brandished in front of him, grip sure and unflinching around the handle. Sirius had his own wand out in an instant, pointed directly at where the strangers face would be.

“Remus its fine,” Lily said, gesturing wildly at Sirius to drop his wand as her hand went up to the figure’s shoulder.

James closed the window behind him as the last of his long limbs made it through, tossing his broomstick onto Sirius’s bed, the least care he’d ever shown for it as far as Sirius was aware. “What’s going on?”

“I thought you were Death Eaters!” Remus explained, switching on the light to show all five of them clearly. Regulus had sunk to the floor against the wall at some point between then and when he’d entered the room, a collapsed heap of gangly limbs and dull black hair, and he made a weak sound at the Remus’s voice.

Sirius bit back on the remark desperate the leave his lips about how some of them were Death Eaters. “What’re you doing here?” he asked instead, hoping Remus didn’t take it to mean that he wasn’t welcome.

Remus flushed, his normally stoic face red hot with embarrassment. “I put a spell on this place when I stayed over, so that I’d know if anyone came in through unusual means.” It was rare for Remus to openly admit that he cared deeply for his friends, though they all knew he did, and he showed it often enough. James smiled at him, not the cocky grin Sirius would’ve expected, both pleased and sad at once, and gripped his shoulder in a quiet show of support.

Lily looked between the three of them, a soft look of affection in her eyes. “We should probably move this to the living room,” she announced and they all followed, even Regulus, unfolding himself and pushing to his feet. This time, he refused Sirius’s assistance, and he guessed their own moments of caring for each other had passed.

* * *

 James made tea as Sirius explained to the other two what was going on, Regulus a silent dark cloud in the corner opposite the TV. He seemed uncomfortable at its existence in his brother’s flat, and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a little smug at his displeasure at being so close to something so obviously muggle. Remus and Lily nodded along with the story, occasionally giving Regulus disbelieving glances from the corners of their eyes. He ignored them both unwaveringly, only looking up to take the tea James had sent to float before his face, taking a sip and scrunching up his face when it burned his tongue. Sirius smirked and blew at his own.

“So this is it,” Lily stated as Sirius passed her the locket, turning it over in her pale hands. It seemed to shimmer where it touched her skin and she scowled at it for several moments before she placed it gently onto the coffee table. “I don’t think we should spend too much time touching something that holds You-Know-Who’s soul.”

“Have you tried destroying it yet?” Remus asked softly, the question directed at Regulus. The question was complete without judgement and his eyes were warm and earnest.

He sneered, his gaunt face twisting into something awful. “Of course not, you idiotic half breed, I was too busy _dying_.”

Sirius was on his feet, James beside him, both their wands pointed straight at Regulus’s face as soon as he said the slur. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” James snapped, the anger in his voice matching the rage Sirius could feel swelling in his chest.

“Enough,” Remus commanded, raising one hand into the air. It was, as they had always called it, his Prefect Voice, very different than James’s Head Boy Voice, the one he’d never used on James or Sirius themselves but that they’re heard strike fear into the hearts of many of the younger and even older pupils. He didn’t sound angry, or even disappointed, yet the promise of punishment if the behaviour continued was there, clear as glass.

James and Sirius both slid back into their seats, not meeting each other’s eyes, and even Regulus looked abashed, hints of pink staining his cheeks. Remus gave Regulus a hard look for a moment, assessing, Sirius could see the calculations whirl around in his heads.

“How do you destroy a horcrux?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus admitted, sounding far smaller than he had when he’d been spitting at Remus like the furious little snake he was. “That’s why I contacted Sirius.”

Remus looked to Sirius, then James, then Lily, all three of them shaking their heads slightly. Silence stretched between them, broken only by beginnings of rain tapping inconsistently against the windows. Without meaning to, Sirius started bouncing his leg as an itch to do something, anything, crept under his skin. His eyes met James’s briefly across the room, the impatience burning in him echoed straight back in them, and without a word they both stood in one fluid movement.

“Well, I’m not going to just sit here,” Sirius announced, and scooped up locket.

* * *

 James and Sirius left Lily watching Regulus in the flat as they and Remus left the building and apparated away to a wet, dark field several miles outside of London where Sirius had taught himself to ride his motorbike. It’d been dark and wet then too, and James had laughed himself hoarse watching him fall again and again and again until he finally got the hang of it and he’d clung to his mud-covered waist as he drove them all the way back to the flat. James certainly wasn’t laughing now, none of them were.

The locket sat on a large, flat stone they’d found at the edge of the field, barely visible in the moonlight. In the middle of the English countryside, it seemed no more menacing than the bracelet Sirius always wore, a gift from James on his sixteenth birthday, engraved with the date he’d met him to remind him he was always loved. There was no magic in it, yet it always felt warm to the touch, as if it were James’s hand holding him.

There was plenty of dark magic in the locket, and all three of them stood as far back as they could and still see it as Sirius shouted, “Reducto!” and a flash of blue light shot from his wand, hitting the locket and flipping it backwards into the air, landing some way away. The three shared a wary look and James went to collect it, using his t-shirt to wipe of some of the mud it was caked in. He brought it over so the other two could examine it with him.

“It looks the same,” James observed, and Sirius couldn’t help but agree.

“How do we know if the soul’s been destroyed?” Sirius asked. “How do we even know it is a horcrux and Regulus isn’t lying?”

“It’s definitely something,” Remus said and took the locket from James’s open hand. He turned it over in his hands, long fingers twisting it this way and that. “I think he’s telling the truth. He almost died, Padfoot.”

“I know,” Sirius snapped. He couldn’t shake the memory of Regulus, half dead on the kitchen table, blood everywhere, his breathing so raw Sirius worried each one would be his last. It felt like it been weeks ago, not hours, yet the thought of his only brother dead left him sick to his stomach, and abruptly he wanted to see him in a way he hadn’t done it many years. “Come on, let’s try something else.”

For hours they stood in the field, casting spell after spell at the locket as the stars turned overhead, until the sun started to rise, casting its watery grey light over them. Remus squinted at the face of the rising sun, crossing his arms and hugging his elbows close to his body.

“I need to go home,” he said around an enormous yawn that Sirius might have found amusing in other circumstances. Just then, all he could do was observe how thin he’d gotten in the time since the full moon, going from just the healthy side of slim to decidedly gaunt, and how the bruise like bags under his eyes seemed to be a permanent feature.

“Yes,” James agreed. “We should go rescue Lily from your brother, too.” His eyes met Sirius, a question in them; _Remus can stay with us?_

With Regulus staying, and possibly Lily, they didn’t really have space. He nodded yes all the same.

* * *

 The living room was bathed in pale pinks and oranges from the rising sun when the arrived back at the flat, highlighting Lily’s red hair as it fanned out around her head where it lay on the arm of the sofa, her face peaceful in sleep. Sirius watched James look at her, a sorrowful frown pulling his mouth down, and Sirius found himself wondering if he was worth it, if James regretted his decision to leave Lily just so he could spend more time with Sirius. His heart squeezed painfully at the idea of James leaving again and turned instead to look at Regulus so James couldn’t read his hurt of his face.

Regulus was sitting on the floor, his head resting against the wall, his face still visibly troubled even in his sleep. He looked better than he had done earlier though, his skin back to its normal shade of pale brown, the same as Sirius’s, and he wondered if Lily had cast a few more healing charms on him at some point in the night. A fine silver chain was wrapped around both his wrists and lead to the ornate oak dresser their uncle had left Sirius that he knew was impossibly heavy from when he had James and moved it from Alphard’s own flat close to Grimmauld Place to here. Clearly, Lily had tied him up with no intention of letting him go anywhere.

“You should stay here,” he heard James say to Remus, and looked to see his friend standing by the door, obviously on his way out.

“I have to meet Dumbledore at eight, he has a mission for me,” he said, glancing at the clock on the wall that showed it was nearly eight. Sirius hadn’t realised they’d been out so long. “I’ll come by after, okay?”

“Promise you will,” James insisted.

A half smile pulled at the corner of Remus’s lips, full of gentle affection. “I promise, Prongs.” And then he was gone, out the door before James or Sirius could say another word.

Finally alone, or as close as they were likely to get, James and Sirius made their way to the kitchen and Sirius filled the kettle and set it to boil by hand. Fatigue had long since settled in his bones, and he was freezing, his clothes soaking from the persistent rain that had lasted all night, but he knew he wouldn’t settle, his mind buzzing with spells and ideas for destroying the horcrux, the image of Regulus dying on a table, and the sight of James watching Lily.

Hands touched his waist gently and he turned to see James’s face inches from his, his expression pinched with worry. Thoughts of everything but James left his mind as he skimmed one of his hands still resting on his waist up to grip his shoulder, paused there, then moved it up further to cup his neck, his thumb brushing against Sirius’s jaw. They were so close together Sirius could feel James’s breath against his lips. The knowledge that if he moved forward, just a little, they would be kissing, rose in him, and instead of being startled by the idea like he should have been, it seemed natural, the most natural thing in the world. Sirius restrained himself.

“Are you okay, really? What happened at Grimmauld Place…” James asked, voice loud in the silence of their kitchen.

Sirius leaned his head forward to lean their foreheads together, noses nudging. “I thought he was going to die, Prongs,” he whispered, and felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “He was going to die, and it would be all my fault.” His voice cracked on the last word and James pulled him even closer, tucking Sirius’s head under his chin even though Sirius was taller by an inch or so. Sirius pressed his face to James’s chest.

“And then he was okay but Walburga came back and I-I knew she would kill me if she saw me-”

“I will never, ever, let her touch you ever again,” James promised fervently as Sirius’s voice broke on every other word. “I swore I would look after you for as long as I live and I meant it, Si.”

“I know, but all I could think of was last time and I couldn’t breathe. And Lily.” He didn’t know how to tell him about Lily, about how he’d been so relieved she was there and that she got it, but that some jealous, ridiculous part of him had wanted her gone when he saw James look at her, and how that was somehow almost as bad as everything else.

James didn’t press him, just wrapped his arms around him tighter.

“Could you sleep?” he asked into Sirius’s waves of black hair. Sirius could feel his lips move against his skin and suppressed the shiver that threatened to crawl up his spine.

“Stay with me?” Sirius felt ludicrous, and half hoped the quiet question was muffled enough by James’s robes that he missed it. Instead, James lead him to his bedroom, cast a drying spell on them both, and they fell asleep with their noses nuzzling against each other, still fully clothed.

* * *

They hadn’t been asleep long, Sirius didn’t think, when the door pushed open and Lily entered. The light from the hallway fell into his eyes, and for a moment he forgot himself, tried to push closer to James to get away from it before he remembered who James was to Lily and shot up, shame and guilt staining his cheeks as he pushed at James shoulder to wake him.

Lily didn’t look annoyed, somehow, and smiled a little, placing herself at the end of the bed.

“How’d it go with the locket?” she asked, though she didn’t sound hopeful about whatever their answer would be.

Sirius shoved his hands into the pockets of the jacket he hadn’t bothered to take off, the leather still damp in places despite James trying to get them dry, and pulled out the horcrux. It was covered in mud, the S barely visible, however power still pulsed within it. Irritation of Lily flared in his gut and, appalled with himself, he dropped the locket onto the bed. The irritation bled away immediately, and Sirius wondered how much the horcrux could influence people’s emotions.

“Nothing even touched it,” he admitted and felt James shift away slightly as he woke, then more significantly when he noticed Lily at the end of the bed.

“What’s next, then?”

“We don’t know. Maybe we should ask Dumbledore.” Sirius was absolutely sure Dumbledore would know something more useful than they did and hoped Remus would have the presence of mind to ask him when he saw him.

Unexpectedly, Lily shook her head. “Regulus doesn’t want any of the higher ups informed, he’s terrified they’ll send him straight to Azkaban.”

“Dumbledore won’t tell anyone if he thinks he’s turned to our side,” James said, his voice sounding surer than Sirius felt. Dumbledore was a good man at heart, he’d always felt, but he couldn’t deny that his ruthlessness when it came to defeating Voldemort sometimes came at a cost Sirius himself wouldn’t have paid.

Lily pursed her lips to keep herself from voicing her disagreement and turned back to face Sirius, as if asking his opinion.

“We’ll see what Remus says when he comes home.” James and Lily both nodded at that, reluctantly. Sirius watched them both for a long moment, trying to read their reactions to each other from their faces. He’d always found James easy to read, and now was no different; he was annoyed that Lily didn’t trust Dumbledore like he did, he found it discomforting to have her so close when he’d been in a such a vulnerable position, there was fear there too, which Sirius couldn’t quite understand, and guilt, which he did.

Whilst a far cry from the impenetrable mask Remus was known for putting on in situations he felt uncomfortable, Lily’s face was still much harder to understand, the soft lines and planes of it less familiar to him, though he’d been her friend for many years. She hadn’t liked seeing them sleeping so close together, he guessed, yet there was no annoyance there, only a quiet, resigned sort of understanding. She met James’s eyes for the first time since she’d walked in the room, quickly flickering her eyes to Sirius before settling back on James. James, for his part, looked downwards at his feet, Sirius knew from years of friendship he would be blushing underneath his dark skin, and Lily rolled her eyes. The whole exchange took less than five seconds, and had Sirius not been looking at them so closely, he wouldn’t have seen it at all.

“Sorry for leaving you with Regulus all night,” Sirius said, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the room. He wished Remus was here, he shamefully wished Lily wasn’t.

“It’s all right,” Lily said, a tiny smile playing at the corner of her lips. Sirius wasn’t sure he hid his surprise well, and heard it mirrored in the tiny squeak James made. “He’s not as bad as I thought he would be.”

“He didn’t call you, _you know_ , did he?” Sirius asked, remembering distinctly the look on Lily’s face the first time Snape had called her that, and the destroyed look hiding at the back of her eyes for days afterwards.

“No,” she said. “I expected him too. He said he was ashamed of the way your parents raised him, Sirius, that he wished he’d been brave like you to escape them.”

At that, Sirius couldn’t hide his shock, spluttering as his eyebrows drew up into his hair.

“He _what_?” James demanded, sounding outraged.

Unconsciously, Sirius reached for his hand to calm him, braced on the bed as it was to keep him upright, and let James twine their fingers for a second before they both flinched away when Lily looked down at their tangled hands. She only smirked, though the expression didn’t meet her eyes.

She stood and made her way back to the hallway. “I’ll leave you two to get more sleep,” she said, ignoring the men’s reactions. “And don’t worry about Regulus and I.”

James and Sirius looked at each other for a long moment, confused and exhausted, before wordlessly returning to their previous positions curled around each other. It seemed more deliberate now than it had when they originally went to bed, yet Sirius found he didn’t want to move, and they were both asleep within seconds.


	5. Chapter 5

Remus didn’t return until the sun was starting to set again, looking haggard and beyond exhausted. He collapsed onto the sofa, completely uncaring of Regulus’s sharp eyes glaring at him with disgust, and took the cup of coffee Sirius pressed into his hands gratefully, taking a long, deep drink before simply holding it in his too thin hands, letting the heat warm him through. Sirius watched him from afar as James went to sit down beside him, closer than Remus would’ve liked Sirius to, and tried to ignore the sadness building in his chest. Once upon a time, Remus would’ve been pleased to have both of them shoulder to shoulder either side of him, would’ve laughed when Sirius leaned forward to whisper mischief into his ear but the casual intimacy of their once-close friendship was gone, and he knew if he tried that now, Remus would draw away, into himself, not just from Sirius.

They’d allowed Regulus a little more reign now they were all back in the house, and he had three mostly awake order members and one very exhausted one to content with, not that Lily wouldn’t have been able to fight him herself. He had a nasty curve to his lips when he approached Sirius, full of malicious pleasure.

“Feeling left out?” he teased, not kindly, as Lily went to sit at Remus’s other side.

“No,” Sirius snapped, though he was, rather.

They said nothing for a while after, the silence pregnant with their discomfort. Regulus stood just out of reach, the space between evidence of the gaping wound in their brotherhood. The years since Sirius had left Hogwarts had changed Regulus, his once warm skin pallid and sickly looking, the bones of his face so sharp his face was almost skull like, even his bright blue eyes had changed, no longer hot with self-righteous anger and hatred, they were cold, empty, and Sirius didn’t think his recent injuries had much to do with it. War had taken its toll on Regulus, and it seemed living under Voldemort’s unflinching rule had changed his opinions as much as his body.

Sirius’s eyes didn’t move from their resting place on the back of James’s neck as he asked, “What changed? You were ready to give your life away for You-Know-Who, and now you would sacrifice it to get rid of him.”

Regulus was silent for so long, Sirius didn’t think he would answer and pushed away from the wall to join his friends. “He doesn’t care.”

Sirius turned back to Regulus, took in his downcast eyes, and laughed. “What, were you expecting him to love you all and look after you and give you holidays? He’s an evil warmonger Regulus, not your _dad_.” Not in truth, that Orion had been all that better.

Regulus looked up to glare at him, eyes sparking with anger, the first real emotion he’d seen in them that wasn’t terror. “He doesn’t care about power over the mudbloods, of the muggles, or any of them. He hates muggles certainly, but that’s it. He wants power, he saw an opportunity in the purebloods for a way to get it.”

“So this isn’t about you having changed then?” Sirius spat and pushed away the feeling of his heart breaking. “You still hate them, but he just wasn’t what you thought? Do you want power, is that it?”

Regulus curled his lip in disgust. “Don’t be absurd, of course that’s not it. I don’t hate any of them. Not anymore.”

“And what, brother, has changed your wonderful ideology? Just too much blood on your hands?”

Regulus looked away from him, a fleeting glance at Lily, and Sirius knew that look, had felt it on his own face too many times. Longing so poisonous it’d kill you if you let it.

“Love, Regulus? What, one look at Lily and you decided that was it?” Sirius was laughing properly now, and the other three had stopped their conversation. In an instant, James was at his side, a hand on his shoulder, so fast he might have apparated.

“Not Lily,” Regulus admitted, quieter and more broken than Sirius would’ve expected. Then his eyes were back on Sirius’s. “And don’t you dare tell me it wasn’t love that changed you.”

Sirius would’ve lunged for him if James hadn’t pulled him closer still, arm wrapping solidly around both his shoulders. There was no question of who he was referring to.

“Sirius would’ve made the right choice even if we’d never met,” James said, no hesitation in his voice. “Since he’s actually a good person.”

Regulus laughed his disbelief, no humour in the sound. “Good to see you’re both still completely codependent. Tell me, did he let you suck his cock last night Sirius? Or is he still pretending he loves her?”

Sirius didn’t know who moved first, but between one second and the next, James and Sirius both had their wands drawn, pointed directly at Regulus’s face. The fear Sirius had seen earlier was back in his eyes, masked behind his indignant anger.

“Shut up, Regulus.” It was Lily’s voice, stern and unforgiving, that cut through the rage boiling in Sirius. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Remus yanked them both away and into the back of the sofa, strong despite his new skinniness. The pain of the ridge digging into his back helped distract him from his sudden fury and he was calm enough to understand when Regulus announced; “You’re the same bullies as you’ve always been. What you don’t understand, is that they’ll come looking for me. Mother will already have a party out searching for me, and she’ll know to come here soon enough, Kreacher will have told her about you stealing me away.”

“Get out, then,” James commanded, even harsher than his Head Boy Voice. “If your mother comes here, I’ll kill her.”

Sirius didn’t doubt it, not for a second. Regulus impossibly paled even further, looked wildly between the four of them, and darted out the door.

* * *

He hadn’t gotten far, wandless and unsure of muggle London, when Lily found him and brought him back, forcing him to sit down on the sofa and re-chaining him to the wardrobe. The softness she’d shown him the day before was gone, his quiet admissions in the middle of the night forgotten after his violence towards Sirius. She sat on the coffee table in front of him when Sirius refused to even look at him and watched her instead, angling himself on the armchair he’d brought from Alphard’s flat so he could only see her face and none of Regulus’s. James came and sat on the arm beside him, his fingers carding through Sirius’s hair absentmindedly, both of them silent as Lily interrogated Regulus.

“How did you find out You-Know-Who had made a horcrux?” she asked to begin.

“Bellatrix was bragging to Lucius about how she is now the Dark Lord’s right-hand woman, telling him she knew all his secrets, and implied he’d made himself a horcrux. She seemed to think it was enviable.”

Sirius could remember a time when Regulus had thought of Bellatrix as nothing less than a goddess, desperate for her approval, her affection. There was no echo of that in his voice now, dripping with disdain when he spoke of her love of Voldemort.

“And you figured out what it was, how exactly?”

All these were questions Sirius should have asked before, when Regulus had kidnapped him that day, and he knew Regulus knew it, was smirking about it to himself, without even having to look at him. If it’d been another member of the Order, Sirius himself would have reprimanded them for their own short-sightedness; it was a mistake, had the possibility of being a deadly one yet.

“Bellatrix isn’t quiet about anything to do with how godly she thinks he is, she’d been talking about how he was the last descendant of Slytherin weeks, how he’d sent her on a special mission to find his locket, how she was so important. I put two and two together.”

Lily gave him a hard look at the arrogance in his own tone, and Sirius felt him shrink back a little into himself without even being able to see him.

“So once you knew he’d secured it, you went straight after it?” she asked, disbelief colouring her voice. “How’d you even know where it was?”

Regulus sighed deeply, as if this was all some great inconvenience, all the fear in him lost in his own self-importance. Sirius fought the urge to curl his lip and instead pressed his temple to James’s shoulder. James slid off the arm to sit half in the armchair and half in Sirius’s lap, though he didn’t look at him. Remus appeared from the kitchen and took the space James had vacated, the closest he’d willingly been to Sirius in weeks. With both his closest friends beside him, he felt he could deal with whatever venom Regulus might spit out next.

“Nobody really notices me much there, I’m just Bellatrix younger, less useful cousin, brother to the bloodtraitor. It was easy to slip some veritaserum into her drink when she wasn’t looking, she trusts me too much. She was rather loose tongued after that.”

“What’d she say?” Remus asked. “What does she remember telling you?”

Regulus shook his head; Sirius could only see it by the slightly movement of his hair. “I obliviated her afterwards, she thinks she just drank far too much. She said he’d taken her to a cave, put the locket in a basin and placed a spell on it so it would constantly refill with poison. Then he made her drink it, just to make sure it worked.” He paused, and Sirius could see his hands fidgeting, a habit Sirius had thought he’d banished years ago, and he wondered if he was remembering his own time drinking the poison. “She sounded pleased.”

Something in his voice, small and far away, squeezed Sirius’s heart tightly. “What about the wounds?”

Regulus shifted so they could see each other, their eyes meeting across the few meters of space. They were back to looking flat again, dead, but Sirius could see him fighting it.

“Inferni,” he said simply. “She hadn’t mentioned them, I’m not sure she knew. Kreacher ended up having the apparate us out. Wizards rarely take into account house-elf magic when planning things.”

He spoke so gently about the horrible elf, with more affection than he’d spoken about Sirius with in years. It was ridiculous to feel jealous of an enslaved house-elf, but that didn’t seem to be enough of an excuse for his heart. He pulled James closer, and ignored the scathing look Regulus sent him, twisting so Sirius would see it.

They all stayed silent for a moment, thinking. James met Sirius eyes, there was fear in their hazel depths, not for himself, or even for Regulus, but for Sirius, just like always. _What about Walburga?_ they seemed to ask.

Sirius turned back to his brother and asked that exact question.

Regulus looked away, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “She’s been unwell since father died,” he said, though he seemed to know that wasn’t what Sirius was asking. “I’m not sure she’ll even notice I’m gone.”

“What about the rest of the Death Eaters?” Remus asked, having been silent until then.

“They won’t notice either. But Kreacher, he’ll tell Bellatrix if I’m not back soon, and she’ll want to know.”

“You can’t go back there,” Lily said, her voice far softer than it had been earlier, comforting almost. Sirius wondered if that’s how they’d spoken last night when the other three were gone.

Regulus met her gaze. “I know.”

“Then we need to bring Kreacher here,” Lily said decisively, standing as if she meant to do something about it right then.

“No,” James and Sirius said together, and James slid from Sirius lap so he was standing too. “I won’t have him here.”

“We can’t risk leaving him there, and him telling Bellatrix,” Remus said, though he didn’t look pleased about it.

“I’ll fight her then, he’s not coming here.”

“Don’t be an idiot, James,” Lily snapped. “He knows far too much, he knows your address and mine.”

James span on his heels and stalked away, anger burning in his eyes, all to protect Sirius, he knew, but they really did have no other choice.

“Okay,” Sirius said. “I’ll go and get him.”

* * *

The sky was close, the heavy clouds purple with rain; Sirius felt if he reached high enough, he could touch them. Grimmauld Place seemed to be waiting for the downpour, dark and damp though not a drop had yet fallen, the road slicker than made any sense. They’d had to get the tube here, not wanting to risk being caught apparating by muggles and his motorbike was still in Aberdeenshire, collecting rust on the massive driveway, and Sirius leather boots felt impossibly heavy as he made his way to the front door of the home he’d grown up in. James was at his back, fingers inches away from Sirius’s, and the knowledge that his best friend was right there was the only thing stopping him from running.

Regulus had assured them Walburga wouldn’t be there, sworn it on his own life, but Sirius wasn’t so sure Regulus valued his life that much, he certainly hadn’t for a long while in his teen years. On the two occasions he’d been here recently, it’d been under such stress that he hadn’t been able to process the emotions flooding through him until he was drowning in them, now he had time to look at each one; terror, rage, a strange nostalgia for a childhood he never had, and deal with them without them overwhelming him.

As a child of the Black bloodline, number 12 had never been hidden from him, lined up smartly between 11 and 13, but it was only when they walked onto the steps leading up to the front door that he heard the tell-tale intake of breath from James as he saw the house again.  Sirius pushed the door open with less resistance than he’d expected, swinging open into the grand entryway, the mounted house-elf heads making strange shadows in the half-light filtering in from outside.

As he moved to enter, James took his wrist in his hand, held it for a moment, and slid his fingers down so their hands were clasped fully, fingers intertwined.

“We get Kreacher, we get out,” he said, voice leaving no room for argument.

Sirius nodded, unsure if James could tell from behind him and squeezed his fingers briefly.

They didn’t have to look far to find the house-elf; as soon as James closed the door behind him, his misshapen nose appeared from behind the kitchen door, then his huge, watery eyes.

“The bloodtraitors!” he shrieked as soon as he caught sight of them. “They’re here!”

Immediately, Sirius froze, his blood stilling in his veins.  For several long moments, neither James nor Sirius so much as breathed as Kreacher continued to scream about their appearance, not leaving his hiding place, until it became apparent they were alone, that Sirius’s mother wasn’t going to appear.

Kreacher’s pitch got higher and higher as the two men stalked towards him, hard eyed and freed by the knowledge no one would stop them in their mission.  He slammed the door shut a they drew closer, James at Sirius’s heels. With a flick of James’s wand, the door was blasted of its hinges, splintering as it clattered to the kitchen floor.

“You’re coming with us, Kreacher,” Sirius called as he heard the house-elf scamper away. “Your master wants you!”

“The bloodtraitor is not Kreacher’s master!” Kreacher shouted back, and with a now familiar crack apparated away to another part of the house.

Sirius turned to look at his best friend, raising an eyebrow. _Do we split up to look for him?_ it asked.

 _No,_ James’s answering shake of the head said. _Never._

Sirius sped up the stairs, James right behind him. “Regulus is asking for your help Kreacher!”

Another crack sounded from above them as Kreacher reappeared in one of the upstairs bedrooms.

“The traitor lies!” They heard Kreacher shout, but there was no apparition sound following.

James checked Walburga’s bedroom first, Sirius unable to bring himself to look in, and finding it empty, they went together into Regulus’s room. The place was a mess, not the almost obsessively tidy bedroom Sirius been in just the day before, as if it had been ransacked, turned upside down in the house-elf’s search for something. For it was undoubtedly Kreacher’s doing, guilt showing on his ugly face as he crouched on Regulus’s unmade bed. Doubt showed in his massive eyes too, along with fear.

“He just wants to see you, Kreacher,” James said, his voice faux-gentle, almost concerned. Sirius had heard his real comforting voice more times than he could count, directed at him in the privacy of a dark bed when he couldn’t stop the nightmares, or at Remus when he had finished shifting, or at Peter when he was stressing about an exam. This voice was like that one in many ways, but Sirius could hear the edge of anger in it, clear as glass.

“Master Regulus left Kreacher,” Kreacher said pitifully, tears catching in his throat. “Master has abandoned Kreacher.”

“No, Kreacher,” James continued in that same voice, “Regulus would never abandon you, you’re his friend, aren’t you? But its not safe for him here anymore.” That last part was true, Sirius wasn’t so sure about the friend part. “Let us take you to him.”

Kreacher seemed to consider this, stood straighter on the bed. “Kreacher cannot leave his Mistress.”

“It would only be for a short while,” Sirius lied. “Regulus just wants to make sure you are alright.”

Kreacher searched his face, more thoroughly than Sirius had thought possible. “All right, Kreacher will come and visit Master Regulus,” he conceded. “But he must be back before his Mistress.”

Sirius sighed deeply, relief washing through him, and let James lead the way out, Kreacher walking between them.

* * *

“Kreacher cannot leave this flat without my explicit permission, does Kreacher understand?” Regulus said to Kreacher as soon as he entered the flat, kneeling on the floor in front of the elf. He sounded sorry for it, knowing that whilst Kreacher would not disobey a direct order from his favourite master, it would hurt the him not to be able to return home. Kreacher’s eyes widened in shock and he turned them on James, full of betrayal. Sirius couldn’t help the sudden guilt that pooled at the pit of his stomach but pushed the emotion away as he collapsed on the sofa. He heard Kreacher whisper something, the words themselves evading him, and almost laughed at Regulus’s reply.

“No, Kreacher, I’m not a prisoner. I am here to be safe, and you need to be here too.”

Regulus was a prisoner here, though Sirius wasn’t sure where he’d go if they had any intention of letting him leave. Thoughts of his brother and his elf fled from his mind as James flung himself down beside him and pressed his forehead to his shoulder. Without thinking about it, Sirius ran his hands through the other man’s hair, revelled in the softness in it, the way it instantly bounced back after his touch.

Remus came to sit at his other side, their knees just brushing, surprising Sirius with how close he was, but he didn’t look directly at him, kept his eyes on Sirius’s hands and James’s head.

“Lily’s gone home,” he explained. Sirius had assumed as much when the woman hadn’t been around when they’d returned home, and Remus didn’t look worried. The flurry of excitement as Kreacher dropped to his knees at Regulus’s feet, sobbing and bashing his head against the floor, had prevented him from asking about her, and Remus seemed to understand that, no scorn in his eyes.

“I think I’m going to go and stay with her,” Remus continued when neither of the other men replied.

James sat up fully at that, blinking owlishly at Remus. “What? No, you have to stay here.”

Remus only rolled his eyes, like James was being overly dramatic, which was possible, though Sirius couldn’t judge him for that. “You don’t have the space for me here with those two here.” He nodded over his shoulder towards Regulus and his elf, who were now talking quietly, their expressions solemn.

“They can stay in my room, and we can all stay in Sirius’s,” James insisted, reaching out to grip Remus’s forearm. Sometimes, there was no arguing with Remus, and now was one of those times, especially when it was true. Regulus would take James’s room, along with Kreacher if they could convince him, and James and Sirius would share Sirius’s as they had been doing with more and more frequency over the past few weeks, but there really was no space for Remus to have a good night’s kip, even if they transfigured a table and some blankets into a suitable bed.

James and Remus argued a little more back and forth, until James finally conceded, as long as Remus came over as soon as he woke up in the morning. Regulus dutifully went to sleep in James’s bed not long after with no complaints at the muggle stuff lining his shelves and the Gryffindor colours on the walls other than the disdainful curl of his upper lip, Kreacher following behind. Sirius had no idea if Kreacher would actually share the bed with him, if Regulus would allow it, but he didn’t really care, particularly after he noticed James, his eyes hooded with tiredness, slip his cloak back on.

“Where are you going?” Sirius demanded, getting to his feet, bare after he’d kicked his boots off, his socks coming off shortly after.

“I’ve got a meeting with Dumbledore.” He looked resigned, as if there was a list longer than his arm of things he’d rather be doing. “It’s order work, I’ll be back by the morning.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sirius offered, reaching for his leather jacket.

James shook his head. “No, Si, stay here with those two.” He looked at Sirius for a long moment, as if weighing something up, then without a word, slid his hand to cup Sirius’s head and pulled it down slightly, leaning up to press a kiss onto his forehead.

With that, he was gone, leaving Sirius alone in a flat that was becoming painfully close to his mother’s. Sirius hugged himself close, not sure quite what to do with himself. It was the first time the friends had been parted for days, and the loss of his favourite person was acute, even after just a moment. It was ridiculous really, and he found himself wanting to go and find Peter, or Marlene, or anyone who might be able to distract him from it.

He debated doing just that until he realised it was approaching midnight and most of their friends would be in bed already. Instead, he found himself drawn to the half-finished map they’d stored away in the cereal cupboard when Regulus arrived. With Regulus’s revelation, and then the appearance of the horcrux and their attempts to destroy it, it was still in the same state it had been when Sirius had programmed Regulus’s magical signature into it. He spread it out onto the kitchen table, weighed it down at each corner with the random paraphernalia he found lying about – Regulus wand, a box of unopened chocolates, the remote for the TV, James’s favourite watch, and stared at it like it was going to give him the answers. In an effort to inspire himself, he played about with the charms already placed on it, made the doorways have doors that opened and closed as people came in or out, changed the dot that would denote a person to a little skull.

It was growing light when Regulus came back out from the bedroom and sat at one of the other chairs around the kitchen table, more comfortable in Sirius’s space then Sirius was with him. He looked at the map for a moment, considering, and then pointed to a corner.

“There’s a cupboard there,” he said around a yawn. “Its got dark artefacts in it.”

“Such as?” Sirius asked, trying to hide his surprise at Regulus actually being helpful.

And Regulus told him, just like that. They spent the rest of the morning adding things to the map so it looked like a real place rather than a collection of lines that meant nothing to anyone. As they added the final things Regulus knew, Sirius felt fatigue pulling at his eye lids, pulling them down as he longed for sleep. James wasn’t back yet, he realised with a start, worry blooming through his chest like an awful, decaying flower.

He scrambled about in his room for his two-way mirror and peered into it.

“Prongs,” he called out, slipping on his jacket and tucking his wand away, already ready to go and save him. “James!”

James’s face appeared suddenly, looking tired but very much alive. He clearly had something tucked into his coat and from the way the landscape whooshed around him, Sirius guessed he was flying. “Pads, I’ll be home in the next hour or two, okay? Have you even slept?” he said, all in one breath.

“Where are you?” he asked.

James smiled, tired and full of affection. “Somewhere over Oxford, I think. Go to sleep, Padfoot, I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Promise?” he asked, quietly enough that he hoped Regulus wouldn’t hear. From the smirk on his brother’s face, he obviously had.

“Promise.” James shoved the mirror away and then connection was gone. Sirius stayed staring at his own reflection in the mirror for a second, before doing as he was told, and slinking off to bed.

* * *

Sirius awoke with a start as the bed dipped with someone else’s weight. He had his wand in his hand in a second, pointing it at the intruder’s face.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s just me,” James’s voice said. Sirius stayed staring at him for a moment and fell back onto the bed. Sunlight was peeking in from behind his blinds; it must already be afternoon. He made to get up again when he noticed something small and orange in James’s hands. The other man collapsed back onto the bed, he held it close it his chest as if protecting it.

“So, I realise this is not the best time for this,” he said, and opened his hands a little. “But I organised it weeks ago, and I really want you to have it.”

In his clasped hands was a tiny kitten, no bigger than Sirius’s own hand. Sirius took it from his gently and couldn’t help the tiny smile when it mewled softly.

“Thank you,” he breathed, though James was right about it not being a good time, he’d wanted a cat for ages, had mentioned it to James only once, months ago, and had assumed he’d completely forgotten about it.

“I went to the Manor and got your bike back too.” Sirius grinned at him, unsure as to why he was suddenly getting all these presents. James took his free hand and kissed his fingers, as if it wasn’t an inherently romantic gesture. “I got you more stuff, but now, I need to sleep. Happy Birthday, Si.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had the idea of James getting Sirius a kitten for his birthday for ages, and that's the only reason for the last part of this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

James and Sirius had always been prone to extravagance when it came to each other’s birthdays, a culmination of both of them being spoiled in their boyhoods, a flair for dramatics and the irrepressible need to out-do each other. This year was obviously no different, Sirius noted, as he walked into the living room, his kitten curled up in his hands, and took in the sight of presents, all perfectly wrapped in red and gold with black ribbons, piled onto every available surface. Some were tiny boxes, most likely containing jewellery and others were enormous, soft looking shapes Sirius couldn’t begin to guess the contents of.

Regulus clearly hadn’t noticed him yet; his mouth was hanging open, ever so slightly, his normally sharp jawline soft with surprise. His blue eyes were bouncing from one stack of presents to the next, unable to fathom why one person would ever be deserving of so many presents. Sirius wasn’t of course, James just liked to indulge him, but there was no way he was going to admit that to his brother.

“Shut your mouth, Regulus, you’ll start catching flies.” Sirius smirked as Regulus closed his jaws closed with an audible snap and turned to glare at him, irritation and embarrassment both clear in his blue eyes.

“You must have really improved your cock sucking abilities since you left Hogwarts,” he snapped derisively. “This is more than you could possibly warrant otherwise.”

Sirius hadn’t been on a date since before James moved in, and he hadn’t been on a date that resulted in sex since months before that; in all likelihood, his blow jobs were probably somewhat worse than they had been the year previously. He wasn’t about to tell Regulus that of course and have to listen to Regulus laugh about how he was waiting for his precious Potter’s dick, especially not with Remus in the room with both his eyebrows raised nearly into his hair, like he almost agreed. Instead, taking the high road he wasn’t known for travelling, he ignored him and walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the small collection of cat things in the corner.

“Happy Birthday Pads,” Remus said from the doorway, walking in and closing it behind him, hopefully leaving Regulus to sulk back off to James’s bedroom to be with his elf. “I got you a present. Nothing like James’s obviously.”

Sirius placed his kitten down and placed a bowl of water in front of her, hoping she would drink, in an effort to give himself time to school his face into an expression of anything but wide-eyed shock. Remus and Sirius hadn’t bought each other gifts in years, not since before they left Hogwarts. When he felt satisfied he looked pleased and grateful rather than completely surprised, he turned to face Remus with a wide smile. Remus was smirking at him, and held out his palm, something gold and delicate in the centre. As Sirius approached, he picked up the earring, for Sirius could make out that’s what it was now, in his other hand, letting the charm dangle from his fingers.

He let their fingers slide as he took the earring and was indescribably pleased when Remus didn’t flinch away from his touch. The earring was a stud from which dangled a small golden dog, an almost exact replica of Padfoot, on a fine chain. He slipped out the stud he already had in his right lobe and stuffed it in his pocket, sliding in the new one and admiring it in the mirror behind Remus now he’d moved fully into the room.

“It can sense dark magic and will bark just loud enough you can hear if there’s any around.” Magical jewellery, especially of such calibre, was expensive, more than Sirius knew Remus could afford. He couldn’t help the grin escaping him as Remus leaned forward to run his index finger over the dog’s head and its tail started wagging. “And if you or someone you love strokes it, it’ll make it happy.”

“Thank you,” he said, and couldn’t help the grin that formed on his lips. Remus just shrugged.

“Are you going to open the rest of them?” he asked and raised an eyebrow as he caught sight of the kitten now pawing at Sirius’s leg. He bent to scoop it up and when he was standing again, Remus was laughing, full of pleased disbelief.

“He bought you a kitten,” he huffed through his laughter, “Of course he did.”

“He wanted one.” James voice was slow with fatigue as it drifted in from the doorway. He’d taken the space Remus had vacated, his shoulder pressed against the doorframe, looking exhausted and rumpled and disarmingly gorgeous in the same mustard yellow jumper and dark jeans he’d worn the day before. Sirius had thought James was attractive for as long as he’d known him but seeing him now made something in Sirius twist pleasantly.

“And of course you just give him everything he wants,” Remus stated. He could have sounded scathing, should have, really; instead his voice was warm and full affection.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, his eyes steady on James’s, the hazel of them soft and welcoming behind his glasses. He wanted to go to him, to curl up in bed and sleep soundly until morning for the first time in days, if not weeks. “You’ve barely slept an hour James,” is what he actually said. “Go back to bed.”

James straightened from the door and walked over, one hand reaching straight for his new earring, the gentleness in him annihilated by the sudden brilliance of his grin, brightening the room and Sirius’s whole world. The dog yipped happily and wagged his tail so violently the whole ring span.

“From Remus,” Sirius told him, pride brimming in him.

“I know,” James said simply and threw the arm that’s fingers had been stroking the dog around his shoulders, holding him close, his chest pressed to Sirius’s shoulder. “Come and open the rest of your presents.”

* * *

Sirius was strutting around the living room in his new dragonhide boots when the doorbell rang unexpectedly, the sound vibrating in his skull. Regulus had taken himself off to James’s bedroom sometime between when Sirius had entered the kitchen and when he’d been led out by James, and he hadn’t made a noise in the hours since, presumably sulking to himself as always. The three friends had been enjoying the easiness of each other’s company for the first time in years. Remus had even been making jokes, laughing with them at Sirius’s overexcitement and James uncurable need to pamper him.

Now, Sirius two best friends shared a knowing smile as he stared at the door in confusion as the bell rang again.

“C’mere,” James said as Remus went to answer the door, pulling Sirius closer when he sat beside him and conjuring a small box Sirius hadn’t seen in years, the Potter family crest emblazoned in gold on the lid. He glanced quickly to James’s wrist to confirm Henry Potter’s watch still rested there, as it had done since his seventeenth birthday, and his brows furrowed, his lack of understanding clear in the line between them.

When Sirius didn’t move to take the box from his hand, James’s lips quirked into a smirk and he flipped it open himself, revealing another watch, a slightly darker shade of gold than James’s own, matching the gold of his new earring almost exactly. The face was well loved and worn, slightly rough around the edges, but clearly looked after, the clock’s hands matching the strap – it was as familiar to Sirius as the bracelet James had given him; Fleamont’s watch.

“James, you can’t give me that,” he whispered, not daring to even touch it. It was traditional in British wizarding families for a grandfather’s watch to go to his firstborn grandson; when James’s grandfather had emigrated from India, he’d bought himself a watch for just the purpose, and another for his unborn son, so they too could join in the tradition. The watch was, by all rights, the inheritance of James’s first child.

“I can,” James insisted, and took Sirius’s wrist, clasping the watch on with wand calloused fingers, their touch tender against his fragile skin. “Dad wanted to give it to you for your seventeenth, but he wasn’t sure if you would want it, so soon after Walburga.” He didn’t have to elaborate; Sirius had ran away months before his seventeenth birthday, and he’d still been raw with grief from it. Arcturus’s watch should have been his, instead he’d received a hateful howler from his mother, saying she was glad he was finally of age, and she could be free of him forever. “Mum and him decided they would give it to you for your twenty first instead, so I was keeping it for you until then, but…” He trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging between them: _We might not live that long._

Sirius missed Fleamont and Euphemia more fiercely than he ever missed Orion and Walburga at the best of times, and a wave of longing for them washed over him. Throwing himself at James, he hid his face in his neck and James’s arms came to wrap around him, holding him so close they were pressed chest to chest.

“Thank you,” he said around the sudden lump in his throat, threatening to bring tears with it, “I love you.”

“Me too.” James kissed his head, his own voice sounding wet.

Without warning, the living room door was thrown open as Dorcas Meadows launched herself into the room, three white carrier bags in her hands. She grinned at them, her smile full and bright, and James and Sirius drew apart, both trying not to blush at their easy affection being witnessed.

“Hey birthday boy!” she cried and dropped the bags onto the carpet, grabbing Sirius’s face and pressing a hard, sloppy kiss to his forehead. “You’re looking gorgeous as ever.” After she’d let him go, she reached over to ruffle James’s perpetually messy hair and lifted the bags back up into the air, the smell of takeaway food wafting from them. “We brought Chinese!”

“What’s all this about?” Sirius asked, though he was grinning. He glanced over at James who was smirking proudly, and looked back to Dorcas, who had now been joined in the room by Lily, Marlene and Remus.

“Happy birthday!” Marlene shouted when his gaze landed on her, no trace of the horror he’d last seen on her face at Grimmauld Place. She looked tired maybe, they all did, but otherwise content. “Sorry we can’t make it tomorrow. It’s my sister’s birthday, and Dorcas has to work.”

Sirius had no idea what was happening tomorrow, but he didn’t want to admit to that and instead led everybody through to the kitchen, scooping his kitten up from James’s lap on the way, his fingers brushing his upper thighs. There was stuff everywhere, all over the table, things from where he and Regulus had been working on the map, the kitten’s bed and collar. Remus piled everything onto the floor as James went about setting the table.

“Wait, who’s this?” Lily stopped by his shoulder to ask, reaching to stoke the kitten’s head.

Sirius glanced at James; they hadn’t discussed a name, and Sirius had no idea.

“Elvendork,” James said with a laugh, putting the forks down to give her a kiss. “You can put her down you know Si.”

He could, he supposed, but with so many people in the flat, there’s a high chance she’d be stood on, or Kreacher could spirit her away somewhere at the first opportunity. The only other person he’d ever felt so protective over was James and that was different; James didn’t really need it, Sirius just felt better when he knew James was safe and sound and preferably curled up with Sirius in his bed. It was with much cajoling from Lily and James both that he eventually placed her down in her bed at his feet, where she curled up immediately and fell back to sleep.

“She’ll be fine,” Marlene assured him as she spooned a heap of sesame chicken onto her plate. “I want to see your brother after we’ve finished, by the way.”

The image of Marlene standing over Regulus, both of them covered in blood, flashed in his mind; he stabbed a piece of beef viscously with his fork and looked to James, entirely by habit, to calm himself. Concern clouded his eyes, and he reached for Sirius’s hand where it rested atop the table, unmindful of everyone else. Flashing him a quick smile, Sirius gripped his hand tightly before letting his hand slip away from view.

“So, what exactly is the plan for tomorrow?” He hoped the question was vague enough that nobody would guess he had no idea what James, for it would be James, had planned for him. They all knew him too well for anyone to have bought it.

“You know the cinema down the main road?” James asked, gesturing to the back wall as if that might be helpful. Luckily, Sirius and James have frequented it often enough that he knew where he was talking about, and nodded. A grin split James’s face, clearly pleased with himself as he said; “I’ve rented out the whole place for the afternoon, everybody’s coming.”

“Well, except Peter,” Remus added, rolling his eyes. “He’s busy at the office apparently.”

“It’s a Sunday.” Dorcas sounded horrified that a man who was supposed to be one of their closest friends was so easily dissuaded from spending any time with them; Sirius was used to it, Peter rarely turned up to anything these days and when he did, he was nervous and twitchy. The war was hard on all of them, but it seemed to be hitting Peter worse than most, maybe fear for his Muggle born mother. Even still, Sirius missed him.

Remus and James shrugged as if that was answer enough and quickly the conversation moved on to other things, to Marlene’s sister and Remus efforts to get some kind of paid employment, to theoretical plans for Dorcas and Marlene’s wedding. They were both blushing furiously as James and Sirius came up with more and more wild ideas and Sirius wasn’t as surprised at himself as he could have been when a flare a jealousy rose in him when James winked at Lily after she’d laughed particularly hard at a suggestion he’d made. It shouldn’t have made him feel better that both of their smiles fell slightly after that, just for a moment, but it did.

 “How’s work been Dorcas?” Sirius asked to avoid the awkwardness he could feel starting to settle over the room.

Dorcas understood what he was aiming for immediately. “It’s good!” she said, then made a contradictory expression. “I mean, I haven’t even finished my training yet and we’re already out on the field most of the time, there’s so many suspicious items coming in from all over. Stuff the Death Eater’s have altered.”

Sirius did know, uncomfortably well; the horcrux was in a lockbox in his bedroom, locked with the best spells James and Sirius knew between them and several physical locks.

“My girlfriend the curse breaker,” Marlene said proudly and blushed darkly when Dorcas pecked her on the lips, sweet and brief, barely there at all.

“And mine the healer!” Dorcas announced and pulled Marlene close around the table, holding her face to kiss her deeply.

They were adorable together, Sirius had always thought so, sweet on each other since they were little girls learning _wingardium leviosa_ and giggling in the Gryffindor common room; he wasn’t sure he believed in true love, but if he did, they had it between them. He didn’t think anyone would ever love him like that, the closest thing he had was James and that was different in ways he couldn’t figure out.

When Dorcas and Marlene drew apart, Remus asked the question he should of thought of before; “Have you ever dealt with a horcrux?”

Dorcas’s dark skin paled, turning an odd grey in the harsh light from the overhead lamp. “No. I mean, we’ve been taught about them of course, but nobody’s seen one in years.” She looked between the other five people in the room, her eyebrows raising in suspicion as her gaze landed on Marlene’s knowing face. “Have you made one?” she demanded, eyes wide. “Have you made a bloody horcrux?”

James threw his hands up placatingly. “Of course not,” he said.

“But we’ve got one.”

Dorcas turned to Sirius, her face a picture of dismay. “What? Who’s?”

“You-Know-Who’s,” Lily admitted, her eyes downcast. “Regulus found it.”

“What?” Dorcas repeated. “How? Sirius’s brother found it? Where is he now?”

“He’s here, but that doesn’t matter. Do you know how to destroy one? We can’t find anything about them anywhere.” Remus looked Dorcas in the eye, unwavering.

She stared at him for a moment, mouth open slightly as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, like it was some kind of bad dream. The silence between them was heavy, everyone waiting for Dorcas’s reply. She glanced to Marlene who nodded so slightly Sirius would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking directly at her.

“In theory. There aren’t many things that could kill off the soul, their destructive properties have to be beyond what witches and wizards are capable of normally. The proper way to do it is for the person to feel true remorse for what they’ve done, obviously that’s not an option. Some sources say goblin made weapons will do it, or basilisk and acromantula venom, but no one has done it successfully in living memory.”

“So there’s no hope then?” Lily said, standing from the table violently, her disappointment quickly turning to anger. “We can’t get any of those things! Its nearly impossible to get basilisk and acromantula venom, and even James and Sirius’s combined inheritance couldn’t buy a goblin sword.”

“There’s a goblin made sword in the Black Manor.” Regulus seemed to have appeared from nowhere, suddenly in the doorway, looking uncomfortable and sullen.

Sirius raised his eyebrows at his brother, but he wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing on Lily’s bright green eyes where they bored into his. James and Remus both turned to him for confirmation and he could only shrug; Walburga had hated Orion’s parents, and Orion hadn’t been overly fond of them himself, Sirius could count on one hand how many times he’d been to his grandparents house, and those had all been before he started Hogwarts, he had no idea what was and wasn’t in the Black Manor. The idea of having to go there, a place Sirius had despised even as a child, that made Grimmauld Place look bright and welcoming, made his blood run cold.

“Kreacher would fetch it, if I asked.” Lily seemed to realise Regulus was directing this at her, as if asking her permission. Her eyes flicked to Sirius, barely an acknowledgement of his presence.

“Do it,” she said. No one argued with her.

Kreacher was sent away within the hour, swearing to Regulus over and over that he would not go back to Grimmauld Place, he would not let anyone know he had been there, he would get in, grab the sword as swiftly as possible, and get out. When Sirius and James left for the cinema the next day, he hadn’t returned.

* * *

The sun had set, and with it, all the warmth in London had seeped away, leaving the night air sharp and frigid, settling over the witches and wizards that piled out of the cinema like a freezing fog. In the orange glow of the streetlights, Sirius was just tipsy enough not to care, and Gideon Prewett was looking soft and inviting. They stood closer together than Sirius would’ve normally with anyone but James, barely a foot apart, and Gideon was blushing a gorgeous shade of pink as Sirius flashed him his trademark smirk, known to make much stronger men fall to their knees. Gideon reached out his hand to play with the hem of Sirius’s t-shirt, easily closing the distance between them in a way he could still reject without it being awkward, but Sirius didn’t want to. His red hair was fire in the false light, and in that moment, Sirius wanted nothing more than to run his hands through it, tip his head back and kiss him until they were both breathless.

“Happy birthday Sirius,” Gideon said, slipping his hand to his hip and tugging gently. Sirius would’ve went willingly had strong, familiar arms not curled around his neck, unsubtle and unflinching in their possessiveness.

Sirius should have been irritated at having his best chance at a lay in months taken from him in such a blunt manner; instead he grinned as Gideon slinked away back to his brother and James moved to his front, not removing his arms from their place around his shoulders. He was closer to Sirius without thought than Gideon had gotten with careful, tentative steps over several long moments, pressed together from thighs to hips. James was leaning back to look at him, glasses reflective and hiding his eyes, but Sirius didn’t need to see them to tell James was drunk.

“Happy birthday Sirius,” he said breathily, clearly mocking Gideon. “You’re looking rather beautiful tonight.”

“Are you trying to say I don’t always look beautiful?” Sirius laughed and slipped his arms around James waist, pulling him in so their chests were flush, faces so close together he could feel James’s breath on his lips.

The cruel twist to his smile fell away as it widened into a grin. “You’re always beautiful. The most beautiful person who’s ever lived.”

Sirius nuzzled their noses together, unmindful of their audience and ignoring the prickling in the back of his mind telling him this was dangerous territory, and even if it wasn’t, they should be going home to check if Kreacher had finally come home. “Is that so?”

James nodded enthusiastically, crashing their chins together in the process. He yelped loudly and rubbed at the offending article before leaning in to press a quick kiss to Sirius’s jaw. “I love you,” he said happily and pressed another kiss to his nose.

“You’re an idiot.” They giggled for a moment, foreheads pressed together, and James pecked him on the lips. And then again. And again and again until they were kissing properly, lips sliding against each other and noses nudging. It wasn’t the first time they’d kissed, and Sirius couldn’t find it in himself to do anything but hope it wasn’t the last, the feelings he’d shut away deep inside himself at seventeen bursting from behind the dam they’d spent years locked behind, washing away any thoughts other than _James James James._

Nobody noticed the sudden appearance of the Death Eaters, the sounds of their apparition lost in the din of a group of happy, tipsy Order members, all together and trying to forget the war that otherwise encroached upon their every thought. Only the sound of a deeply familiar laugh broke Sirius away from his best friend, the sound both cruel and delighted.

Bellatrix was beautiful, she always had been, her long black hair sleek and shining in the dark as she tossed it over her shoulder. Unlike her accomplices, she wore no death mask, her pale skin and sharp cheekbones on full display, her mouth set in a malevolent smirk. There was no denying her relation to Sirius, their angular eyes nearly identical in shape and colour in the moonlight.

“Oh cousin,” she said, all easy amusement. Her eyes flicked from Sirius to James and back again, her smile growing wide with realisation. “You could’ve done so much better.”

They were in no fit state for a fight; the Death Eaters easily outnumbered them and no doubt had back up on hand, and even if they weren’t, none of them were entirely sober, he could hear somebody, probably Alice, vomiting in the background, barely being held up by Frank. The Death Eaters had taken no chances here, sending their best when they were at their worst. Fear crept up Sirius’s spine, sending shivers throughout his body, and yet the jibe about James angered him, more than it might have had he had just one less beer.

“No, Bellatrix darling, I don’t think so. _You_ , however, I hear are grovelling at Voldemort’s feet every chance you get, your poor husband must be so pleased.”

One of the other Death Eaters let out an angry snarl but Bellatrix was unaffected, if anything, her smile grew even more smug.

“He is the future, cousin, you know that.”

“A shame you won’t be around to see it,” James snapped from behind him and a flash of green light shot towards Bellatrix’s chest. She deflected it with a swish of her wand and didn’t so much as blink as it ricocheted into the wall to her side, blasting chunks of stone over the other Death Eaters.

“I’ll tell you who won’t be around to see it,” she said with a grin. “You always liked that McKinnon girl didn’t you, Sirius?”

 _Marlene_. He’d only seen her the day before, smiling and laughing on his sofa, curled in Dorcas’s arms. Bellatrix could be lying, had to be lying, and yet she wouldn’t look so self-satisfied if she was, he thought, practically glowing with it. There wasn’t time for tears, yet they burned in his eyes anyway, his vision swimming with images of Marlene broken on the ground of her parents hallway.

His wand was in his hand before he had time to think about it, and the spell was bursting from it as if on its own accord. She laughed wildly as it sped towards her and deflected carelessly; too carelessly, one of her accomplices had been hit by the rubble from the building beside her and was now in the line of the spell. It hit him in the stomach and he fell to the ground, still and silent. Dead, at Sirius’s hand, not the first time he’d killed someone, but that made it no easier. He didn’t have time to processes it now.

All humour left Bellatrix’s face, fury taking over in less than a second, her mouth thinning to a fine line as rage burned in her eyes.

“How _dare_ you?” she screamed, as if there was any chance she’s actually cared about the person. Her wand whipped through the air and a spell came hurtling towards him, heading straight for his head. He ducked, pulling James down with him, and hoped the rest of his friends had the sense to get away; Sirius was going to die, and though he’d send James way in a second, there was no chance he’d leave him here, alone; they were best friends, soulmates, they lived and died together.

He had no such luck, the Order members were all casting spells left and right, matched easily by the Death Eaters who advanced quickly, the air suddenly crackling with magic. He sent another spell towards Bellatrix, immediately followed by one from James. She dodged both easily, and both hit the man at her back. Sirius didn’t have time to think about his fate and blasted more his cousin’s way, grabbing James’s arm and pulling him backwards with him as more spells came their way.

“Incendio!” Bellatrix screamed, a stream of fire shooting from her wand in a wide arch. It missed Sirius barely, singeing the ends of his hair and hit Benjy. The scent of burning flesh filled the air as he screamed.

“Aquamenti,” he heard Frank cry. He wanted to turn and check he was all right, but Bellatrix was drawing closer. She seemed to have her sights on Sirius, leaving the rest of her Death Eaters to deal with his friends.

A flash of light sped past Sirius’s ear, and caught Bellatrix off guard, hitting her squarely in the shoulder. She screamed her outrage as thick ropes started to bind her, far too valuable to be killed without questioning, and aimed more fire at her own arm, burning away the ropes and some of her own skin.

“We need to get out of here!” Gideon shouted, no longer soft and quiet. He was right of course, the Death Eaters were fully upon them now, and Benjy was still whimpering somewhere behind him.

“We can’t leave!” James roared, ever the hero, eyes blazing.

Sirius turned to him, too concerned over the welfare of his friends to notice the way Bellatrix was moving her wand. The cruciatus curse hit him squarely in the back, and his vision went black. Over the pain he heard Bellatrix cackle and James scream, felt the heat of a spell passing too closely to his face. Another cry, more angry than pained, and Sirius’s vision was back, staring up at James who had crouched over him protectively. His expression was feral, mouth curled into a snarl, teeth bared, his wand letting off a constant stream of spells in a rainbow of colours. It would’ve been beautiful, in any other situation.

He used James’s closest shoulder to haul himself back up, surprised to find the Death Eater numbers had thinned dramatically and theirs had doubled. Mad-Eye Moody stood close by, magical eye whirring in its socket as he cast spells left and right, always hitting their target even when he wasn’t facing them. His real eye met Sirius’s, and the sharp motion of his head was command enough: go.

* * *

Benjy was alive, barely, his burns so severe if he lasted the night he would be scarred for life, Fabian had a chunk of his arm missing, and Alice was still shaking from the cruciatus curse that had hit her. Marlene, her sister who’s birthday it had been, her baby brother, not even at Hogwarts yet, and both of her parents were dead. Nobody had been allowed to see the bodies, too mutilated to be dressed. Sirius didn’t think the memory of Dorcas’s cries would ever leave him, even if he lived to be over a hundred. He wanted to turn into Padfoot and run, run away from her and her grief, run from the concern on James’s face, run from the row he knew they’d get from McGonagall in the morning. When he tried, James had held him still until all the adrenalin ebbed away from both of them, leaving them empty of anything but the unending guilt of knowing they had survived all but untouched again, and their friends would never be the same.

Regulus sat on the sofa when they got back to the flat, face pinched in anger, like some unattended housewife.

“Where have you been?” he snapped. They'd spent hours at St. Mungos, being checked over and checking on others, until the sun had risen and the Healers had sent everyone uninjured home.

James raised his hands to him, unusually placating. “Just don’t.”

“Is Kreacher back yet?” Sirius asked, needing to find something other than Marlene and Benjy and Fabian and whether of not any of them would outlive this war to think about. he'd meant to put some anger into his voice, but it just came out, flat, unfeeling.

“He is,” Regulus said, “I sent him to bed.”

“And the sword?” James asked.

Regulus gestured to the coffee table. Atop it sat the sword, bigger than Sirius would’ve imagined, sharp, the pummel black and inlaid with jewels, designed in intricate patterns, unmistakably goblin made. How Sirius had never seen it, he didn't know, for if he had, there was no way he would have forgotten; he would have called it beautiful had one of his closest friends not just been murdered.

“Fetch the locket,” he told James, but the other man had already done so, holding it out to Sirius with a solemn expression, none of the normal warmth in his face.

The locket pulsed with power as Sirius took it from James and lifted the sword, lighter than he would’ve imagined. Fear seemed to emanate from the horcrux at the proximity of the sword, and he understood this weapon would destroy it where no others would. He placed it down on the floor, hoped Elevendork was elsewhere in the flat, somewhere safe and sleeping, and started to swing the sword.

“Sirius,” James said, voice thick, stopping Sirius in his tracks. “I have to tell you. I love you.”

Sirius turned back to him, confused as to why James decided thought that was important right now. He was biting his lip, turning the brown skin white, eyes meeting his despite the fear shining in them.

“I know,” said Sirius.

James let out a huff of frustration, a tiny smile playing at his lips. “Don't be obtuse. I mean I’m _in_ love with you.”

Sirius looked from James to Regulus, to the locket and back to James, as if he would find an answer in any of them. Instead, he gave him the truth; “I know.”


	7. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot believe its been nearly 6 months since I last updated this, it feels like it was just a few weeks ago. Not to mention that this chapter has pretty much been written since January, I just couldn't get it to work the way i wanted it to.
> 
> Anyway, here chapter 7 - part 1 is, and part 2 (and 3) will be up sooner rather than later, I hope.

Even with the war looming around every corner, descending on every member of the wizarding community in Britain like an electric storm ready to release its first bouts of lighting, the summer between their sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts were the best weeks of Sirius’s life to date. The Aberdeenshire weather was uncommonly warm and dry, still not as much as it would have been in London, but the rarity of it gave his memories of those weeks spent entirely in James’s presence a hazy, dreamlike presence; eating ice cream in the muggle village; running in their animagus forms through the forest, with and without their rat and wolf; riding the motorbike fast and hard around the Scottish Highlands. Remus and Peter came over often, and they spent the days with them plotting and scheming and the nights drunk on firewhisky and cheap muggle beer and the freedom of all four of them being seventeen.

It became obvious to everyone almost immediately that being away from Hogwarts, all its rules to break and schoolwork to ignore and girls to look at, changed something between James and Sirius. Their hands lingered on each other a moment too long, their eyes rarely left each other’s faces, and Sirius felt the warmth he always felt when he was around James shift into something hotter, brighter. The nights they were alone were spent face to face in one bed, whispering to each other well into the dead of the night, secrets and possible futures ghosting over them like memories.

They were talking about the flat they’d get after Hogwarts when it finally happened. The joke about the cat they would invariably get, because Sirius was such a dog if nothing else, had left them giggling breathlessly, faces barely a handspan apart. Sirius’s eyes met James, a storm in the forest, his smile still curving his lips, and then they were kissing. Neither boy could have said back then who had moved, but now Sirius thought it was probably James, his lips chaffed from so much flying, pressing into Sirius’s hard, his broad hand cupping Sirius’s head as if he would stop him moving away, as if Sirius would ever want to. Sirius slid his hand up James’s bare waist, for they both slept in their boxers in the hot weather and felt the other boy shiver at the touch.

“This is good, right?” James murmured against his lips, searching his face, so suddenly, adorably unsure of himself.

“This is _so_ good.” Sirius barely had the words out when James was kissing him again.

It became their routine, their days filled with wild laughter and outdoor adventure, and their nights filled with exploration of a very different sort. Remus figured it out as soon as the next time he was over they got him to sleep in a guest bedroom; he hadn’t said a word but Sirius knew the smug look in his eyes, as if he’d known this would happen all along. Sirius couldn’t help but feel it was inevitable too and burn with the excitement of all the possibilities of his life with James.

The summer ended too soon, blue skies returning to grey as they returned to Hogwarts, and James was made Head Boy to Lily’s Head Girl. The kissing stopped as quickly as it started, no more secret caresses in the middle of the night, with James shifty, guilty gaze rarely meeting Sirius’s. Sirius said nothing when Lily asked James out and the boy he loved said yes, because by then he’d understood; James loved him, he always would, but he didn’t want him, that life with him like Sirius did, and never could.

* * *

 James stared at him, eyes round with surprise behind his glasses, the fear in them turned quickly to shock, then embarrassment as his cheeks reddened underneath the dark brown of his skin. The silence between them was heavy, even Elvendork was quiet, though she couldn’t possibly understand the situation.

“Oh,” James said dumbly, eyes flickering away from Sirius’s to examine his own fingers. “Oh.”

Sirius wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say. James was in love with him but didn’t want him, it was a fact of life as much as the fact that Sirius was in love with James, and wanted him so absolutely the only way he’d been able to deal with the grief of being so completely unwanted by James was to force his feelings into a tiny box in the back of his mind, never to be opened again. He watched as James blinked, and blinked again in rapid succession; he swallowed, his lips turned down in a heartbroken movement, mirroring the expression Sirius knew he’d worn for the first few months of their last year at Hogwarts. Sirius moved to reach for him, his own heartbreak as inconsequential as its ever been faced with James’s, but the other man moved away too fast, and was gone with the loud crack on apparition.

The silence continued on for a few moments more, all the occupants of the room in shock.

“Well, that was awful,” Regulus said dryly, ignoring the glare Sirius sent him. “I always thought you’d be the pining one.”

“Shut up, Regulus,” Sirius snapped and held the locket out before him again, telling himself he just needed to give James time to calm down and they’d be back to normal and turning a deaf ear to the way his brain screamed at him to chase after his best friend.

Fear rocketed down his arm, emanating from the locket, as Sirius pushed away all the emotions threatening to drown him, and swung the sword. As soon as the blade made contact with the horcrux, it shattered. Acrid black smoke belched out from the destroyed remains, thick and suffocating, burning Sirius’s lungs worse than any cigarette as it flooded then, and a terrible, inhuman scream split the air. As he moved to cover his ears and mouth, the smoke cleared and the noise ended, as sudden as it had come, leaving just the broken husk of the horcrux on the floor, surrounded by scorch marks where the smoke had burned the wood.

Sirius had expected to feel something, some triumph after killing this vital piece of Voldemort, yet the numbness from Marlene’s death lingered on, clinging to him like a soaking cloak, chilling him to the bone until he could feel nothing at all. Regulus stood at his shoulder, occupying the space James often took, and the brothers looked at the locket from long moments in silence, unequally unsure as to what would happen next.

“Would he have felt it?” Sirius asked eventually.

“I don’t know.” Regulus’s voice sounded dull, empty, the evidence of his second betrayal now before him, as much a brand as the mark on his forearm. Sirius wondered which was worse and found himself suspecting he knew the answer.

* * *

James didn’t return that night, nor the day after, and the insomnia that had plagued Sirius’s teen years, solved only by James’s constant presence, returned as if he had never been free of it. Cuddling on the couch with Elvendork, Regulus and Kreacher somewhere in the flat, Sirius tried calling James on the mirror for the tenth time, decidedly not looking at the bags under his eyes staring back at him. His best friend probably wouldn’t answer, like he hadn’t done any of the other times he called; he only knew he was all right because of the note he’d sent, assuring him he was at Remus’s and fine, and would come home soon, that he just needed time.

The image on the mirror vibrated slightly, the sign that either James was about to pick up, or he’d just end the connection. Sirius’s pulse raced, heart in his throat despite himself, knowing this would probably be like all the other times when James had ignored him, still, he couldn’t help the hope expanding in his chest. Once the feeling of numbness had left him, he’d cried in his room solidly for hours, for Marlene and her family and for the fact James wasn’t even there to hold him. In the months since James had returned to their flat, he’d grown so reliant on him again, as unused to him not being there as he had been when he’d first moved into Lily’s and they spoken at least five times a day. Now, it had been twenty hours, and he felt sick with missing him.

He let out a long, relieved sigh when the mirror’s image distorted entirely, and James’s face peered back out at him. He looked well, better than Sirius anyway, no bags under his eyes, yet the sadness in them was unmistakable along with the downward tilt of his lips. He scrubbed a hand over his face, his eyes never leaving Sirius’s and growing concerned when he took in the exhaustion clear in every line of Sirius’s body.

“It’s the McKinnons funeral tomorrow,” Sirius said, like there was any chance James would have forgotten, instead of saying what he wanted to: _come home, I miss you, I don’t want to go without you, come home._ It was ridiculous, and selfish, and if James couldn’t be around him yet, then he just had to deal with that. James would be there whether they’re talking or not, Sirius’s just wasn’t sure he’d choose to stay with Sirius during it, or even after.

“I know, I’m going with Remus.”

Sirius tried to keep his face perfectly blank, though from the way James’s expression changed, he hadn’t managed it. “That’s good, I don’t know how safe it would be to go alone.” It wasn’t a pleasant thought, it never was, but Order member’s funerals had become the least safe place to be of late, one place filled with most of not all of Voldemort’s most dangerous enemies was a prime place for a Death Eater attack. They could only hope they still had a shred enough of humanity left in them to leave them alone, though Sirius doubted it.

“I should go,” James said after a few moments of silence, looking uncomfortable. They’d never had an uncomfortable silence before, not from the first day they’d met, and the idea had tears burning behind Sirius’s eyes.

“Come home,” he begged, though he hadn’t meant to. “Please. I miss you.”

James shook his head. “I can’t Pads. I promise I’ll be back in a few days.”

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Sirius asked, desperate for an affirmative answer.

“I don’t know.”

With that, James ended the call, leaving them both alone. In the few minutes they’d spoken, the flat had grown dark, the dull orange glow of the lampposts outside filtering through the gaps in the blinds, despite the fact it wasn’t yet five o’clock. Sirius couldn’t remember when exactly autumn had given way to winter but it was here now in the long cold nights. Despite his dark appearance and his birth late in the year, Sirius had always loved summer most of all the seasons, and just then he wished for his seventeenth summer more than any other, when the world had consisted of him and James.

* * *

The door to the flat swung open noiselessly, the gap it left in the wall as sullen as the girl standing in it, a gaping wound as large and raw as the one festering inside Sirius. Lily wore no make-up, her hair tied back in a severe bun, making the sorrow painted in the redness of her eyes and the paleness of her lips even more pronounced. The dress robes she wore were black and looked heavy on her sagging shoulders, normally so strong, as if they could hold the world on them. Perhaps only a world with Marlene in it.

Marlene would’ve been disappointed to see them both in formal funeral wear, she would’ve wanted Sirius to dress as he normally did, all dark tight jeans and black leather jackets, but he couldn’t escape this last ghost of his pureblood upbringing and so wore the dress robes he’d bought for Fleamont’s funeral, worn again just weeks later for Euphemia’s. The wool scratched where it met his bare skin at the collar and he fought the urge to pull at it.

Neither he nor Lily said anything as they apparated to the funeral, the sickening tug of it a welcome distraction from the never ending onslaught of pain that accompanied the knowledge that Marlene was dead, never again to laugh at Sirius and James’s stupid jokes or grip her morning tea like it was the only thing to keep her awake or support Lily in her ideals. The hall was crowded when they arrived, filled with grieving witches and wizards of all ages, and some muggles too, around Marlene’s sister’s age; in their grief they were inseparable from anyone else, all dark in mourning. Lily tugged him to a seat at the front Mary had kept free for them, mascara already running down her cheeks in grey, watery lines. Immediately Mary took Lily’s hand, gripping it tight, and Sirius was overcome with a wave of longing for James, for the joined sadness and support of his best friend. He wanted to look around for him, to check he was there, but as soon as the thought came to him, the celebrant took to the podium, and the funeral began.

“Today we come together to celebrate the lives of these five souls, ripped from this Earth, and each of us, far too soon as they relaxed in their home.”

Sirius couldn’t look at the man any longer, staring down at his fingers as they twisted together in his robes. Some steady, level headed part of him knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn’t shake the guilt that settled in his gut like a stone, that told him it was his fault Marlene was dead, Marlene and her parents, her sister and brother, that if less of the young Order members hadn’t been out with him, if they’d have been more alert to potential dangers, that if he’d pushed Marlene just a little bit harder, she’d have been with them, not dying on her living room carpet, the same one Sirius had fallen asleep on more than once. He wondered if she had looked like that, content and asleep, or if they’d ripped her open as they had to some of the others; he didn’t know, didn’t want to know, had refused to see her in the morg.

A pale, slim hand reached for his and twined their fingers together as Lily leaned on him more fully, her shoulders shaking slightly as she began to cry. The feeling of her breaking apart beside him made him come back to himself a little, and he reached around to wrap an arm around her shoulders and tug her close. At her other side, Mary was watching the celebrant closely, fresh tears slipping down her face and dripping from her chin. Sirius gave her shoulders a squeeze too.

“Marlene was a happy soul, described as such by all who knew her,” the celebrant was saying, and Sirius couldn’t help but notice the way the light made his bald head shine; Marlene would have found it funny, Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the thought. “She was clever, and brave, and so loved; by her family; by Dorcas, her girlfriend; by her closest friends, Mary and Lily and Sirius, and by many more.”

Sirius nearly jumped at the sound of his name, so surprised at being mentioned. Marlene was, or had been, one of his closest friends, but to know that she’d felt the same had a warm feeling curling in his stomach, not entirely happy, but not entirely sad either.

The celebrant continued on, talking about Marlene’s many achievements and passions, then going on to her sister and brother, and Sirius found himself lost in memories of Marlene, which inevitably lead him to his memories of James. The thought of his best friend sent a sharp stabbing pain slicing through him, and he fought the urge to turn and look for his best friend. He was here, even if he wasn’t here with Sirius, and that was enough.

* * *

 The wake didn’t last long. As the darkness drew in, people began saying their goodbyes, to each other and the remainder of the McKinnon’s family. Marlene’s grandmother, looking even more wizened and ancient than the last time Sirius had seen her, and Marlene had always referred to her as raisin like, had thanked him personally for coming, and pulled him down to kiss his forehead when he pecked her cheek.

“Don’t tell Lily, but you were always my favourite of her friends,” she said, giving Sirius a watery smile. “She did love you so.”

Sirius could barely speak through the tightness in his throat. “She loved you too.”

Marlene’s grandmother stroked his cheek, almost too high for her to reach. “I know. Now go and be safe.”

“You be safe,” he told her, kissed her again on the cheek and apparated home, Lily’s hand tucked into the crook of his arm.

The TV was on in the flat, which seemed odd, since Mary had come to tell Sirius in a quiet, sorry voice that James was spending another night at Remus’s not long after the wake started. The light in the living room wasn’t, and with a shared look of apprehension, Lily and Sirius stalked together into the room, both with wands drawn. They let out a shared sigh of relief at who sat on the sofa, Regulus and Kreacher both staring with confused frowns at the screen.

“Taken to more muggle pursuits, have you?” Lily asked, her tone lighter and more teasing than Sirius had expected.

Both man and elf turned immediately to face them, Regulus’s cheeks pinking in shame, and Sirius was sure Kreacher’s would have too, if he was able. “I was just curious what all the fuss is about,” Regulus said, nose in the air, though he’d looked rather invested when Lily and Sirius walked in.

Sirius only rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen, Lily at his heels.

“That was rough,” Lily said, all humour from before being swallowed up by the reminder that her best friend was dead.

Sirius reached down to pet Elvendork as she wound around his legs and reached for a bottle of wine. He didn’t remember who’d bought it, if it was him or James. He pushed the thought of his own best friend away and offered to bottle to Lily.

“Yeah. Want a drink?”

She shook her head, glancing at the door. “I should go, its just...” she trailed off, staring at the scorch marks still in the wood. “You got rid of the horcrux.”

Sirius only nodded.

“Good, that’s good. We should discuss it later, with Remus and James. I’ll see you later.”

And with that she was gone, and Sirius was alone again.

* * *

 A lightning storm had rolled its way into London’s sky by the time Sirius went to bed, rare for this time of year. Desperately, he wanted James, but there was little point asking for him when he still wasn’t ready to see him yet, so instead Sirius drank the whole bottle of wine he’d intended to share with Lily and forced himself to sleep alone in his bed.

His dreams were strange, filled with the fear the electric storm caused him, manifesting as dark monsters ripping out his friends’ hearts and serving them to him on a platter.

“Eat them up,” the monster said, except it couldn’t speak, it was a thunder cloud, and its voice was lighting. “They’re all for you.”

“I don’t want them,” Sirius begged. “Give them back, give them back!” The monster laughed and laughed, threw his head back as his whole body shook.

Sirius screamed, and the monster’s laugh grew until he was shaking so hard he broke part, reforming into a blonde witch with holes where her eyes should be. She reached for him, white lightning webbing between her outstretched fingers. “My friend, my Sirius, save me!”

Fear ricocheted down Sirius spine, of the electricity in her fingers, the thunderclouds in her eyes. His hand shook as he took her, and pain sliced into his palm. He shouted out. The sound changed Marlene again, a Death Eater’s mask covering her face as an all too familiar laugh filtered through the silver.

“I killed her, cousin,” Bellatrix crooned. “I killed her again and again, and you were too weak to save her.”

He waved his hand at her, magic flooding through him alongside his anger, the cruciatus curse ready to burst from him, yet then he was shaking too, forcefully, the vibrations coming from outside himself.

“Crucio!” he screamed, and woke.

* * *

The storm was over, the room dark, and yet the monster was back, gripping the same hand Marlene had, some sticky, warm liquid spilling out from where the monster grasped it, leaning over him with shadowed eyes. He tried to push it away, yet it only moved closer. 

“Sirius, Sirius, sweetheart,” the monster said with James’s voice. “It’s me, it’s only me.”

The monster with James’s voice waved James’s wand, and the room lit up with magic light, stripping all the darkness from the man above him. James looked distraught, his lush mouth turned down at the corners as he pushed his free hand through Sirius’s hair, getting caught easily in the normally silky strands. All the fear from the dream drained from him in the instant he felt James’s skin on his, soothing him in a way nothing else could.

He tried to call for his best friend, but the only sound that left his throat was a broken croak. Even still, the other man seemed to understand, and sank down onto the bed, stroking his fingers down Sirius’s face once more before he pulled his wet hand into his lap. Now he could see the deep gash running across it, a shard of glass imbedded in the centre, the sticky liquid he’d felt before his own blood. Pain jolted down his arm as James uncurled his fingers silently and with a quick apology, ripped the glass out. Blood spurted, leaking out from him even faster than before. James pressed a thick wad of cloth he must have summoned to the wound, holding it firm to close the gush of blood still flowing out of him.

“You haven’t dreamed like that in a long time,” he said eventually, when he’d cleared to blood enough to cast a healing charm on him, the open flesh knitting back together with an excruciating itch, not unlike the feeling when his larger tattoos were healing. “Not since before you left.”

He didn’t explain where Sirius had left, they both knew he meant Grimmauld Place. It was true, though he still didn’t sleep for a full night unless James was in the room, he hadn’t had such wicked nightmares since he was a child, locked in his family home of horrors. It left him breathless still as he watched James, still examining his hand, now with only a fine pink line across his palm.

“No,” he said, when his lungs were full. “It was the storm.”

James nodded. “I didn’t know, I would have come.”

“Why did you?”

He held up the bloody shard that had been in his hand and picked up several other pieces of shattered glass from Sirius’s bed. “This is your mirror. You were screaming.”

Sirius remembered taking his mirror to bed with him now, holding it close as he longed for James and sleep. He hadn’t meant to call for James, though he had no doubt he had, he just wanted to be close to him, he always wanted to be close to him. He loved him.

He threw back the covers and stood, deciding not to fight the fond smile that the cautious look on James face brought to his lips.

“Make me tea, after my ordeal.”


End file.
